New Battles, Old Defeats
by nivet
Summary: Shepherd is on his way to Earth to answer for the destruction of a mass relay and the deaths of millions of Batarians. But coming home means coming back to a past he wished to forget about, but it hasn't forgotten about him.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N_

_This is my first story for the website. I've been coming here for awhile and have enjoyed many of the stories here. This story is going to revolve around Shepherd's life on Earth, and his time with the Reds. Shepherd is a paragon, lone survivor, earth born, left Kaidan on Virmire, and destroyed the Collector base. Includes all dlc drom Mass Effect 1&2. Romanced Miranda. All reviews are appreciated and expected. Suggestions are welcome._

Shepherd was stressed out, to the point of tearing out what little hair he had. He was staring at some poor soul who resembled a cancer patient, without the cheery attitude. The black bags beneath his eyes were accentuated against his white skin, resembling twin black eyes. These in turn were offset against his bloodshot eyes, showing his lack of sleep. His slumped shoulders and slightly hung head showed both his physical and mental exhaustion. Finally, a scar over the crown of his head, barely hidden by his hair, completed John's reflection. This scar had once extended down past his eye, though it miraculously healed so that it only created a line a relatively short line into his hair. Considering the incredibly dangerous situations he was often found in, his crew had just assumed it was the result some battlefield injury. All the better for him, he thought. Only Miranda, and Liara before her, had seen the other scars that had littered his body after spending a night together. He hadn't the courage to reveal their true significance on either of those nights, nor to Liara again at the lair of the former Shadow Broker or her visit to the Normandy. Not even to Miranda now, the love of his life that he knew he could lose any time with the Reaper invasion pending. His self pitying was interrupted by Joker over the comms.

"Commander, where are on a landing course for the Alliance headquarters. Our ETA is one hour." Joker's comm went silent again.

Shepherd took a deep breath and looked once more into his reflection. Trying to find some form of confidence or reassurance in himself, he found none. It had been just over seven years since he been back to Earth. He had always humored the thought with anticipation, finding it odd that he had become more accustomed to society on the Normandy and the Citadel. Also, he was eager to get some form of shore for himself and his crew, who were predominantly human, and his alien crew members as well. He laughed at himself, acting like a child who wanted to show off his brand new toy to his best friends. However, this trip was for business, not pleasure. He needed to convince the Alliance to prepare for, or at the very least acknowledge the Reaper threat. He was also being called back to answer for his destruction of a mass relay and the deaths of many Batarians in the process. He knew that it had to be done, but that hardly eased the burden.

Shepherd left his cabin and decided to wait out the rest of the hour in the mess hall. Gardner was in his usual spot preparing meals for whoever was brave enough to eat them. The special ingredients Shepherd had bought for him had since run out, forcing him to go back to basics. It seems that Hawthorne, despite his teasing, did enjoy his food because he was waiting for what was looking to be a pasta dish. He saw Chawkwas through the window of the medical bay. She was consulting with Mordin about one of the Salarian's wild theories. This was a common occurrence, as Mordin had few people other than Shepherd and Chawkwas who were intelligent enough, and patient enough, to hear the true genius of his ramblings. Shepherd looked ahead to see the door to the gun batteries was open, but empty. It would seem his best friend Garrus had finally gotten the guns calibrated to his satisfaction and had left, hopefully to get some sleep. Just then a cup of water was placed before him, and a sexy curvaceous body gracefully slid into the seat next to him. This perfect creature had a smooth, delicate voice with an accent that sent a shiver through him from head to toe that he thought he enjoyed almost too much.

"You look like hell." Miranda said in a tone dual laced with both playfulness and concern.

Damn, even her insults are amazing.

"Well, considering we just pulled off a suicide mission without losing anyone, spat in the face of the Illusive, and have a race of sentient, genocidal machines gunning for us," He said without even a hint of seriousness.

"I think I can be excused if I forget to put on my make up."

This is earned a laugh out of Miranda, a beautiful sound that he began hearing much more since their relationship began. Her icy exterior had melted to reveal the person she was on the inside. This woman desperately needed friends but was too unsure of herself to allow it. Now she had begun warming up to every body. Even Tali had started to let go of her grudge against Miranda and Cerberus, but this was likely because of her adoration for Shepherd, and her secret (or what she thought to be secret), crush on him. Shepherd loved Tali too much to tell her that he knew, and he made sure that no one else told her either. Garrus and Katsumi were particularly troublesome. His attention was torn back to the lovely woman in beside him when she laid a gentle hand on his.

"So it has nothing to do with the fact that the Alliance has called you back to Earth to answer for the destruction of an entire inhabited system, which belonged to a species that has made it very clear that they don't like humans?" She deduced immediately.

It was a rhetorical question, he knew, but he answered anyway.

"Yes, it does. I need to answer for this. Everyone has to know that the Reapers were that close to us, and that it had to be done. If there was any other way, I damn sure would have," He was cut off when she placed her hand on his cheek, staring at him with an understanding look. He realized that he hadn't taken a breath during that entire rant, and that he was clenching his fists.

"Shepherd, you don't have to explain yourself to me or anyone else on this ship. None of us envy your position, nor do we think any less of you for what you've done. You're our commander and our friend. You've helped everyone on this ship more than we can ever repay, and saved the galaxy twice over now. You are a hero. You've experienced things most people have nightmares about, losing your team on Akuze and leaving Kaidan behind on Virmire. Bad things have happened to you, but you aren't a bad man for doing what needs to be done." She finished with a smile showed her sincerity.

Shepherd returned the smile and the couple shared a kiss as deeply passionate as the night in the engine room. A sharp whistle blew from Katsumi's lips, who was using her cloaking device to eavesdrop on the conversation. Miranda, never moving her lips from Shepherd's, used her biotics to hurl the cup of water she placed on the table and threw it at the thief. Katsumi expertly dodged it, and went back to her room, giggling all the way.

_That is my first installment in a story that I have no idea as to how long it will go on for. Apologies for any problems with how the story is formatted. I consider myself to be handicapped when it comes to computers, so hopefully I can get these other chapters rolling._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N_

_Here it goes with the second chapter. Reviews are appreciated as always. And special thanks to Subject 0 for the great review. I'll try and make the corrections you suggested. BTW, my Shepard isn't cheating on Liara, she was just tripping by Mass Effect 2, lol._

The Normandy was guided to the hangar by a pair of unmanned fighter craft.

"Nice to see they treat the first human specter and hero of the citadel so nicely." Said Joker with sarcasm so obvious that it was hardly clever.

"Did you really expect them to just let a crew filled with some of the most dangerous individuals in the known galaxy to land at the headquarters of the Alliance?" Shepard asked.

"Well, I guess not. But it still would been nice for them to give us some kind of recognition. I mean, all the hell we've been through, and the council and Alliance won't even acknowledge what Sovereign was, never mind the fact we just ripped the Collectors a new one with so few people realizing what was really happening!" He said with clear irritation.

Shepard gave him a consoling look. No one had come out of these missions without scars, including Joker. He had his ship destroyed, watched Shepard get spaced while saving him, watched all of the crew get kidnapped by the Collectors, then had to somehow pilot the second Normandy into and back out of the Omega-4 Relay. All the while putting up with a disease that prevented him from so much as jogging. Without Joker, Shepard's missions of tracking down Saren and building a squad to take on the Collectors wouldn't even have gotten off the ground, literally.

"I understand how you feel Joker, but we don't do what we do for the praise. We do it because its the right thing to do, and only we can get it done."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't mind mind a metal, or some groupies, maybe a documentary in my honor. Hmmm, '_Jeff Moreau: King of Sky and Space'_." He thought aloud to himself.

Shepard shook his head and left the pilot to his musings. He stepped out of the airlock into the visitors center of the Alliance headquarters. The room was very large, and bustling with servicemen, officials, even civilians were allowed into this area. He saw some security mechs standing in out of the way areas so as not to intimidate the passerby. What truly surprised him was the number of aliens that were here as well. The last time Shepard was on Earth, the number of aliens on the planet were quite small, maybe only a couple thousand. Even the home worlds of the council races, when compared to the multicultural metropolis that is the Citadel, the alien population of these planets is small by comparison.

Still, it was fair to assume that his saving of the Citadel via heavy reliance on human military forces and Andersen's induction into the Council helped humanity become much more open with aliens, and aliens becoming more trusting of humans. His own crew was the perfect example of this ideal. What Miranda said was right. This crew of human, turian, salarian, quarian, krogan, asari, and even geth have come to trust each other with their lives. Friendships have developed, and something more, if Liara and Tali were any indication.

Shepard found himself lost in the visitor center. He had expected someone to be there greet him, or slap him in handcuffs. He noticed members of his squad had begun making their way off of the Normandy themselves. He saw Jacob and Miranda walking together seeming to avoid any real notice. Grunt had stood by a receiving port close by the docking bay to watch a number of heavy weapons being loaded onto a freighter class ship, looking almost jealously at the ordinance. He noticed Garrus standing in corner where the traffic of people was low. Shepard made his way over to him.

"You don't have to hide back here Garrus, your face doesn't look that bad." Shepard joked.

"Ha ha ha, very funny. But I think my being here would attract attention regardless of the scars. I can't say I'm entirely comfortable being a turian in an Aliiance building." Garrus stated.

"These people don't hate turians, Garrus. Besides, you just helped save the human race from being converted into a giant Reaper modeled after our likeness." Shepard reassured him.

"Yeah, you really couldn't have done that without me." Garrus stated matter-of-factly.

"I think that would get me a few points with the Alliance." He continued smugly to himself.

Just then Tali came over to the two of them. She acted rather nonchalant about it, but it was clear to the both of them that she made a beeline for them as soon as she saw them. Since coming aboard, Tali would practically shadow Shepard, Garrus, even Joker or Chakwas. Despite the crew getting along after the assault on the base, Tali was still a little bit suspicious of Miranda and Jacob, scared of Grunt and Jack, uncomfortable around Samara and Thane, and had her own reservations about Legion.

" Shepard, whats going on? The security personnel won't let anyone from your crew leave the building, and the Normandy has just been grounded. Joker nearly popped a blood vessel when he heard that." She said with worry in her voice.

" Whats wrong, worried that all these humans will ask you what you look like underneath that suit?" Garrus teased.

" This is serious you _bosh-tet_!" Tali almost screamed, however she realized her voice had cracked and she sounded like a child. She composed herself, and resisting the urge to 'playfully' throttle Garrus, she turned to Shepard.

" Shepard, what if the Alliance tries to arrest you? I mean, you did just blow up a Mass relay and are a known member of Cerberus. Well, former member, I mean, and I wasn't judging you, I know you did what needed to be done and I would never insinuate,"

" Tali, calm down. Don't worry so much. I need to answer for this, no matter the reason I had to justify it." Shepard saw her physically calm down, as her hands were untangling themselves from each other.

" I know Shepard. But I just can't stomach the thought of you being thought as some kind of war criminal. You've done too much for the galaxy for everyone to think your some murder."

_Murder._ The word called to him like an old friend. He had never considered all the people he had killed during his years of service as murders. Not even the Eclipse mercenary he pushed through the widow of a skyscraper on Illium did he consider a murder. This made him reflect on his life before joining the Alliance. Of his life with the Reds. Of _her. _Of _him._

"Commander Shepard of the Normandy, please report to security." These words sounded over the intercom.

Many of the civilians, soldiers, officers, and aliens almost dropped what they were doing when the call went out. They looked around the room, trying not to be noticed doing so, but the amount of people doing made it obvious. They finally realized just who exactly they had amidst them. Many looked excited, many more looked apprehensive.

" Here we go." Shepard said quietly to himself but lound enough for Tali and Garrus to hear.

Shepard began making his way over to the nearest security guard, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else right now. Garrus, Tali, Jacob and Miranda stared after him with concern. Grunt was to busy ogling an over sized gatling gun that was meant to be mounted on a gunship. He fantasized carrying it into battle against a Thresher Maw.

_I realize this story is moving rather slowly, and I apologize. Being new to this, I'm still learning to keep my paragraphs condensed and more to the point without running away from itself. I'm trying get everything into context with the characters. Too be honest, I'm really making this up as I go, so I imagine I'll probably end up editing published chapters. Once again I ask for your patience, and your reviews._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N_

_Its been a while since my last update. Between school and the Battlefield3 beta I haven't been able to get any writing done, though not for a lack of trying. I'm ashamed to say that I had what I would simply call a minor mid life crisis, lol. The realization donned on me that with Mass effect3 and Skyrim, two of my favorite franchises are coming to an end! I guess its fitting that this happen in my last year of high school to. Lets hope that Bioware keeps on chugging out games like Mass Effect,I'm looking at you Dragon ,while I'm not a religious guy,I am praying for a KOTOR3._

"Uh, please put your hands behind your back so I can handcuff you sir." The security guard said shaking slightly.

_"_Are you serious?" Shepard said with annoyance, which seemed to agitate the guard more.

_"_It, it is protocol sir. All criminal personnel are to be restrained when being escorted by a security officer."

_Criminal _personnel? The words angered him a little, and he unwittingly gave the guard an angry look. He could see the man's Adam's apple moved in accordance with the large gulp he just took. Sighing, he did as the guard asked, putting his hands behind him. The guard handcuffed him, and Shepard could see Jacob take notice and then make a move towards them. Shepard shook his head to him, and Jacob complied like the good soldier he was, though he didn't look any happier about seeing a man he considered a hero being placed in handcuffs.

"I don't like the look of this. One of us should go with him." Jacob said as Shepard was led out of sight through a door in the security checkpoint that was for the guards only.

"Don't worry. I there is anybody who can fight his way out of a highly fortified building while being accused of war crimes, and is with out the use of his hands, its Shepard." Garrus said.

The two chuckled slightly, though they both knew it was empty laughter.

The guard led Shepard towards the main security station. It was a long walk, since the only way to get there was through the holding cells, which were in turn was kept far away from the visitors center where he came for obvious reasons. The prisoners took notice of him almost immediately.

"Ha ha ha, they got another one of those smuggler types." Said a bucktoothed inmate that just screamed elementary school drop out.

" You idiot, look at him. He's too well armed to be some smuggler. He's gotta be a deserter thinking he could sneak back without the Alliance noticing." Well, that guess was a little better.

"Mmmm, I hope you your like your showers friend." Shepard cringed at that one.

"Holy shit! That's Commander Shepard." Finally.

"How the hell do you know that?" The drop out asked.

"His face was everywhere when it turned out he wasn't really dead after being gone for two years. He's the reason David Anderson became a councilor, and why humanity gets any respect in this galaxy." The prisoner looked like a child finding his favorite super hero at his birthday party, unaware that it was just his dad in a cheap costume.

"You sure do have quite a following." The guard said behind him.

Shepard ignored him. The idea of having a prison fan club wasn't appealing. They stopped at the end of the hall in front of an elevator. While waiting for it to arrive. Shepard turned his attention to the cell that was next to the elevator. The man inside was unremarkable. Plain face, plain hair, plain build, plain expression. It was his tattoo that slowed down time for Shepard. On the man's shoulder was a human skull, with a ten on the forehead. The ten was blood red. He racked his memory to recall the time he was had the same tattoo on his left pectoral, though that space was now occupied by a scar that nearly stretched all the way across his left chest.

"Here it is, get in."

Shepard almost didn't hear him, the thirty second wait giving him enough time to remember fifteen years of his life. It wasn't until the prisoner turned to him and gave him an uncomfortable look that he tore his eyes away from the tattoo and stepped into the elevator.

"Son, you wanna tell me why Shepard here is handcuffed?" Said an authoritative voice.

"Yes sir. Standard protocol indicates that any criminal personnel in Alliance HQ are,"

"Are you insinuating that Commander Shepard is a criminal?"

"Well sir, he is a known member of a terrorist organization, and he did just destroy,"

"Stop right there son. I don't think you have any right to try and explain who Shepard is and what he has done, when you really lack the intelligence to understand any of it."

"I, uh, well, I," the guard began.

"So I'll explain it to you. Shepard is the first human Specter, Savior of the Citadel and Council, the only surviving member of the travesty on Akuze, and more that I can't even reveal to you. He's had to endure things that would have driven other people insane. You don't have to understand him or his actions, but you damn well better respect him. Now get these handcuffs off him and leave us."

The guard did as he was told and power walked out of the security center.

"Did you have to go that hard on him Admiral?" Shepard asked.

"Probably not, but it was faster than waiting for confirmation from his CO." Admiral Hackett replied_._

The two men shook hands respectfully. The Admiral has worked with Shepard extensively since becoming a Specter. He was also probably the only one besides his crew who knows why he had destroyed the Mass Relay.

"I'm gonna cut to the chase Shepard. The chairman isn't happy, the Council isn't happy, the Batarians are for damn sure not happy, and galactic society is starting to get scared. You were called back to have a trial, then you are going to be sent back to the Council for another. I know you did what had to be done, but everyone is demanding answers, some blood. I have to ask, what are you going to do?" The admiral finished and waited for Shepard's response expectantly.

Shepard had been asking himself the same question since he got the order to report back here. He gave the only answer he could right now.

"Admiral, you know whats coming. Saren and Sovereign, the Collectors, they were just the beginning. I've seen whats happened who knows how many times before through the Prothean beacons, what is going to happen to all organic life if we don't stop the Reapers. I need to convince the Alliance to devote resources to prepare. The Council needs to accept Sovereign for what it truly was, and do the same. The Reapers were one day from arriving. I don't know how much time we gained when I destroyed the relay, but I'm willing to bet everything that it isn't a lot. Everyone needs to be prepared, we can't afford any distractions."

The last statement made him seem like a hypocrite to himself. Here he was explaining to Admiral Hackett that people needed to be ready and have steadfast resolve, but he himself, after returning to earth, after having everyone look up to and love him and call him a hero, he couldn't let go.

"I know your right Shepard, but I just don't know how your going to do it with my just my word and your crew. Hell, even if Anderson supports you it just seems impossible."

"Like the attack on the Collector Base." Shepard sighed with a little smile.

Hackett returned the smile with a chuckle. "Yeah, like that."

"Well I guess you've done harder things than convince all the species in the galaxy to unite against a threat most of them don't know about. The slightly more pressing matter is this, your trial isn't for another three weeks, and for the duration of that time your ship is grounded. Not my own decision, but the majority of high command voted in favor of this. You can stay where you wish, so long as you remain in the country. The Normandy will be kept under close," Just then an alarm went off.

"All security personnel in the south wing report to the hangar immediately!" The called went out across the speakers, but Shepard and Hackett were already in the elevator

They made their way back to the visitors center, which was adjacent to the docking bay, and were found it in a total state of chaos. The security guards were trying to keep civilians outside, mechs were being activated, and several fires were burning fiercely filling the room with smoke. Pieces of metal and concrete from walls and doors littered the floor, mixed with more than a few pairs of body parts.

"Miranda, Garrus, Tali, Jacob, Grunt, hello!" Shepard shouted out.

"Over here Shepard!" Came Tali's sweet little voice. She, Miranda, Jacob and Garrus began appearing out of the smoke. It was so thick they could barely make out anything that was ten feet in front of them.

Then a pile of debris began to rise up. Shepard instinctively drew his Phalanx and trained the laser sight on the center of mass. The debris fell away to reveal a dirty, but unharmed Grunt.

"Get that damn gun outta my face." He said shielding his eyes from the glare of the laser.

"Commander, whats going on, are we being attacked?" Asked Jacob.

"I'm gonna find out, but lets check on everyone else first." Shepard replied as he stepped through the bulkhead door leading to the hangar.

The hangar seemed to be in better shape, as nearly all the ships were unscathed. The only that was really damaged was now a burning pile of slag that was making plenty of smoke to flood the room. It was still hard to navigate, but the sound of a tell tale voice guided the group.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Jack was fuming. She had stepped of the ship for fifteen minutes and then something exploded and now she can't see anything through the smoke. Then a footstep behind her prompted a biotic shock wave that tore up the ground it hit. She was about to launch another when Shepard's voiced stilled her hand.

"Dammit Jack, stand down!"

"Shepard, where the fuck have you been, and what the hell is going on her?"

"I don't know yet, but if you can avoid killing me for about ten minutes, I'll get back to you on that. Now come on."

The entire group continued searching for any people who may need help. A bright light shined through the smoke like a light house.

"Shepard Commander, we require assistance." Legion stated in a monotone voice. Shepard rushed over to find Legion standing over Zaeed, who's leg was pinned under a piece of debris.

"Why the hell am I always the one getting stuck under shit?" The aged mercenary fumed.

"I think your slowing down with age Zaeed." Shepard Joked.

"Watch it Shepard. Now help the robot get this bloody thing off of me."

With Legion's help he lifted the debris off of Zaeed and the two joined the rest of the crew to continue the search. Thane and Katsumi just seemed to appear out of nowhere, but where thankfully unharmed.

"Shepard, over here!" He heard Samara's voice call out. Thane, who's eye surgery helped him to see even in smoke, spotted her helping someone walk towards them. They found her half carrying Joker, who's right leg was twisted in an unsettling way. Shepard rushed over to help, but Joker grabbed his hand and had a horrified look on his face.

"Gone, gone, gone,"

"Dammit Joker get a hold of yourself."

"She's gone commander." Joker sad with a much more sad expression now.

"Who? Who is gone?"

"The ship. The Normandy. She's gone, someone stole her!"

_I hope that was a little more entertaining for you to next chapter will have some more action hopefully._


	4. Ghosts Voices

_Chapter 4 is here. Now the change of scenery and mention of new characters will hopefully spice things up a little. I realize that this story is moving painfully slow, and I once again ask you for your patience. I'm still trying to make my writing more fluid. I've read a number of newer stories and I just beat Deus Ex and Fallout New Vegas Lonesome Road, and all of it was inspiring. I just love the slide shows at the end of the fallout games and their dlc. So stick with me and I'll try to make it worth your while. BTW, my profile actually has something in it now if any of you are interested, including one of the most badass pictures of Darth Vader I could find._

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><p>Shepard and his crew were relocated to an off site Alliance outpost that was located in the military district. His 'crew' wasn't entirely accurate. His crew now consisted of only Miranda, Jacob, Garrus, Grunt, Jack, Tali, Samara, Kasumi, Zaeed, Thane, Legion, Mordin and Joker. Chakwas, Donnely, Gabby, Gardner, Hawthorne, Kelly and the others have disappeared along with the Normandy. Alliance HQ was deemed unsafe for them to stay in as the attack was obviously directed at them, if the theft of their ship was any indication. The outpost was public, really more akin to a high end police station, but still remote enough that any suspicious activity would be easily spotted. However, this did nothing to calm Shepard and his crew.<p>

"Why are we all just sitting here?" Asked an extremely livid Joker, who was the only one actually sitting down.

"High Command is having the HQ searched to make sure there aren't any more explosives placed through out the facility. After they get the all clear, forensics will conduct a thorough investigation to find any evidence that might tell us what the reason for this attack might be." Admiral Hackett responded much too calmly for Joker's taste.

"Evidence? What the hell, are you people blind? The Normandy is gone, obviously the explosions were a decoy so that they could steal her out of the 'most secure' (he made literal air quotes to accentuate his point) facility the Alliance has outside of the Citadel, and you idiots want to sit around on your asses trying to,"

"Joker!" Shepard cut in abruptly to stop his helmsman from saying something that could have got him court marshaled for insubordination even though he wasn't a part of the Alliance anymore, and because Joker was beginning to go blue in the face from not taking a breath.

Joker turned to him about to say something, but the look on Shepard's face turned his tongue to lead. He imagined it was a face he used when he needed to make a Krogan pee himself.

"Sorry Commander." His apology was only to show his respect for Shepard.

"Everyone is upset about this, but we need to believe that the Alliance is going to help us out, right?" He asked to his assembled team. The only nods of agreement came from Jacob, Samara, and Tali. All the others seemed to be skeptical, to say the least.

"You all need to know that the Alliance will do everything it can to find out just what the hell is going on." Hackett spoke out with a neutral voice and expression, but Shepard could guess that he was feeling the hostility from the mistrust.

"Do you really believe this shit Shepard? I mean, don't you find that an attempt on our lives and the Normandy being stolen after you've been called for a trial seem a little bit suspicious to you?" Asked the ever paranoid of authority Jack.

"What are you getting at Jack?" Asked Miranda, with a barely contained snicker at the convict's conspiracy theories.

"What i'm getting at, cheerleader, is that the first human specter blowing up a system full of Batarians can't be good fucking publicity for the Alliance. Hero of the Citadel or not."

"You don't seriously think that the Alliance would try to take out Shepard, do you?" Thane asked as much out of interest as trying to reassure her that the notion was far fetched.

She merely crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, which meant that she did indeed believe that it was a possibility.

"Our analysis of human government and history proves that such actions are not rare. We find Jack's theory to be 49% plausible." Legion's monotone voice explained. Jack just shrugged at the support.

Hackett was about to protest when his omni-tool beeped, indicating a message coming in.

"Hackett here, go ahead." He put the message on speaker so all could hear.

"Sir, we've finished cleaning the wreckage and found no other traps set throughout the base. However, we did find something that might interest you. Shall we bring it over?"

"Do that, and double time it soldier."

"Affirmative, we should be by within the hour. Over and out." The voice cut off but left everyone even more anxious and suspicious than before.

"Alright then. Until the forensics team gets down here with whatever they found, all of you can use this base as your barracks. I'll come find you when they arrive Shepard." Hackett finished and took his leave.

"Wait! We can't just stay here, you need to give us a ship so we can go after the Normandy." Joker said, standing up now carefully.

"No." Hackett replied over his shoulder.

"But, but why not?"

"Firstly, you don't know where the Normandy is, so you'll be flying blind. Second, your still grounded." With that he finally left, leaving Joker with his mouth open but devoid of words.

"You heard the man. Find somewhere to sleep and stay out of trouble. I'll contact all of you when the forensics team arrives." Shepard said as one by one everyone funneled out of the briefing room to find somewhere to put themselves. It was hard without the Normandy's engineering deck, life support rooms, gun batteries, and labs.

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><p>Shepard stripped out of his armor down to his red t-shirt and black track pants. It was odd being out of his armor outside of the Normandy. The gravity on the ship wasn't quite the same as the gravity planet side. On the ship the gravity was a little more intense, but spending so much time aboard the Normandy had dulled his notice to it. And when on places like the the Citadel, he was always in some kind of armor. Now he felt oddly light, stood a little taller, and seemed like he had to watch that he didn't overcompensate for something as simple as lifting his arm. Has he really be away from Earth that long? He had joined the Alliance about sixteen years ago, and spent the majority of the time since then aboard warships or on different planets with varying gravity in his constantly changing armor attire.<p>

The scuffing of bare feet against smooth metal tore him away from his bleak memories to the beauty in front of him. The outpost was scarcely populated, so he and Miranda had taken the southwest quarters for themselves. Jacob gave the two a smirk, and Garrus spread his mandibles a little farther, which he guessed was the Turian equivalent. Zaeed was much less subtle when he pounded Shepard in the arm and gave Miranda a completely shameless look up and down. He hurried away when her biotics flared slightly.

Seeing Miranda outside of her uniform was a privilege very few people had the fortune to witness. Not just for her looks, but her personality as well. She has warmed up greatly to everyone since working with Shepard, but she still had trouble breaking down her professional attitude. With Shepard, it was a whole other story. Despite what she said about herself, Miranda was indeed funny when she put her mind too it. It seemed that she was too smart not to be, finding humor in things that others were too dimwitted or too careless to notice. Her charm was undeniable, able to break the ice of most situations, despite her nickname as the 'Ice Queen'. Also, she was very understanding person to talk to. It would be unbelievable to anyone who hadn't gotten to know her like he has. She seemed so much more human outside of her uniform, rather than the object of her father's ego that she used to describe herself as. And that body was just the icing on the cake. Right now she was wearing a tight pair of short shorts made of the same material as his track pants. She also wore a tight fitting white tank top that only came halfway down her torso, exposing her belly. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail to reveal her sharp and delicate features. And that accent.

"The bloody shower has no hot water. Even a Cerberus boot camp could afford basic amenities like that." She said annoyed as she dried the last of her hair.

"Were you expecting five seasons?" Shepard asked while still lying on the bed.

"Well, you could have done something a little more creative for your first time back on Earth since joining the Alliance." She smiled as she came to lay down on the same bed as he was. The bed wasn't big enough to fit two people perfectly, so she had to lay on top of him slightly. He couldn't complain.

"It just seems like no matter where we go, people can't help but try to kill us."

"After doing everything you have, I'm surprised there aren't more."

The both of them giggle in happy contemplation, disregarding the seriousness of how dangerous of a life they led. Both of their chests moved in unison with their laughter, Shepard able to feel her heart despite it being hidden behind all that cleavage. The feeling of her breasts against his chest aroused him despite his pathetic attempt at self restraint. He managed to console himself slightly, but the track pants were far too giving. She didn't look at his member, but the look in her eye told him that she was well aware of his arousal. She threw her arm around him and pulled herself tighter to him.

"So, you never did tell me about growing up on Earth. What was it like?" She asked nuzzling into his neck.

"Not much to tell."

"I know your lying. I've only been to Earth four times, and that was only for a few days during jobs for Cerberus. Its not like I know a lot about what life is like here."

Shepard sighed. His erection had also relaxed considerably.

"Well, I grew up in this city actually, Toronto. Many people think its special because it is home to one of the four main Alliance headquarters. The other three are in San Fransisco, London, and Beijing. But you go deep enough and its just like any other city."

"In what ways?"

"You can tell what the people of a city are really like when you look at the poor. The ones who face adversity and are constantly tested by the world show you the real characteristics of society."

She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him.

"And what did you see?"

"Greed, jealousy, corruption, anger and hatred, justified or not. Some people wouldn't falter in the face of overwhelming conflict. I knew some people who were selfless, kind, caring, tried everything they could to make things better for others." He paused for a moment, to consider if what he was about to say was fair or not. He decided it was.

"All they got in return was a knife in their back. Eventually people just stopped wanting to help each other. The rules became: When opportunity knocks, you make sure know one else hears it before you answer. I don't blame people for looking out for themselves, but it got to the point that a person would screw another over just to see that person's life go to hell."

"How did you survive?"

"Stubbornness." She didn't smile at the half joke.

"I joined up with a gang. That's what most people without family or friends did to get anywhere in life. Depending on the gang, you may have had constant protection, or someone trying to kill you every waking moment of your life."

"What gang did you join John?"

He paused when he was lost in memories that became like waking dreams to him now. Everything he did, had seen, them, her, him.

"What gang isn't important, their nothing but a bunch of xenophobic punks now. Just know that I met a lot of people in that gang who convinced me that joining the Alliance was a better life than staying there could ever give me. Besides, its worked out pretty good so far. I do have the sexiest woman ever 'made' in bed with me right now."

"You ass." She laughed at his joke.

"No, your ass." He grabbed her ass.

She was know completely on top of him, the two kissing passionately. Her love for french kissing hadn't waned in the slightest. He was almost done getting her shirt off and she had let her hand wander down towards his erection, which had now returned in full force, when the unthinkable happened.

"Commander, the forensics team has arrived. Get your team down to the briefing room. You'll wanna see this. Hackett out." His omni-tool went silent.

Sighing, he reluctantly got up and began dressing back into his kestrel armor, minus the helmet.

"I owe you a night, my dear." He said as he snapped the last piece on.

"And I expect interest." Miranda said as she zipped up the front of her black uniform, not bothering to activate the holographic tactical glasses. Shepard felt a pleasurable shiver run down his spine.

* * *

><p>The entire squad and Joker made their way to the briefing upon Shepard's request. Thane had and Mordin had made it their first and Jack came in last, because being punctual would require her to show some form of easy cooperation. The atmosphere was even more intense than before, and everyone was looking at the officer in charge of the investigation expectantly.<p>

"Our inspection yielded one definitive result, the attack was meant to cover the theft of the Normandy. No other bombs where found in the base, and the ones that detonated couldn't have caused any serious structural damage. That means that someone is definitely targeting you, though if it was just to steal your ship and kidnap some of your crew or something more, we don't know." The Asian officer said.

Joker through his hands up in the air with a tired look on his face.

"Well thanks for making sure that what we already thought about was true. Medals all around!" He said mockingly.

Shepard shot him another one of his patented Krogan pissing themselves looks.

"We also found this, sirs." The officer said to the Commander and Admiral. He produced a data pad from his brief case.

"What is so important about a data pad? That could have been dropped during the explosions, what with all the ships coming in and out of the hangar." Jacob asked.

"You don't understand sir. This data pad wasn't found during our initial search, but was left in the spot where one of the explosions detonated and found when we conducted a second search."

"Which means that someone snuck into a highly fortified military base filled to the brim with security and mechs, left that data pad, and got back out unnoticed. Nice." Kasumi said with admiration for a good job of stealthy infiltration. She received varied looks from everyone present.

"Quite skillful indeed." Commented Thane. He got the same treatment as the thief.

"So I think this whats on everybody's mind right now, well, except for our steal oriented friends here." Garrus said this and now he was shot looks from the thief and assassin.

"What is on that data pad?" He finished.

The office looked slightly embarrassed now.

"Well, its encoded and it has some kind of riddle that needs to be answered to unlock it."

"What does this riddle say?" Samara asked with interest.

The officer cleared his throat and opened the data pad.

"A pack of beasts. The Rat, Bear, Snake, Wolf, Vulture, Shark, Dove, Owl, and," He looked up from the data pad to show where the answer must go.

"Shepard Commander, hacking this deice should only take us approximately,"

"No need Legion." Shepard said cutting the Geth off. He took the data pad from the officer. Some where, deep in his subconscious, he hoped that his password would not work. He read over the riddle in silence once more, then keyed in his password.

Lion.

The data pad made the sound that signaled the lock down being lifted. The message that appeared next shook him to the core.

_You done a lot for yourself John. Or is it Hero of the Citadel now, or Specter. All these years and you didn't keep in touch, are you avoiding us? We've missed you terribly, well some of us have. You must have a lot on your plate right now, what with these Reaper things on their way. And you must be so tired from fighting those Collectors. Not to mention that trial you have coming up. That is going to be quite the scandal, and my new friends are **very **interested in how that is going to turn out. Hope you don't mind us borrowing your ship for awhile. We'll keep it, and your crew, taken care of until then. Of course if you get restless and want to come say hi, you could try asking around. You remember the old neighborhood don't you? And by the way, welcome home from the Reds, the real Reds._

The weight of his armor may as well as tripled in weight. Struggling to lift the weight of his boot he moved towards Admiral Hackett, the eight steps feeling like eight miles. If he had been looking through Hackett's eyes, Shepard would have seen the reflection from his mirror on the Normandy barely a day earlier.

"I think I have some names to give to our attackers."

* * *

><p><em>I hope that made things a little more juicy for all of you. I realize that very little actually happened, but keep with me and I promise to make it worth your time. Please review, even if you already did do it again and let me know how you like it so far. P.S, I don't care if the animal references seemed corny, I think they add mystery and suspense.<br>_


	5. Rat's Den

_Chapter 4 will be longer and more action packed. After that message, Shepard is going to have to dig some skeletons out of the closet. I looked back at some of the old chapters and noticed that I wrote things like 'seven years of his life' and 'joined the Alliance sixteen years ago'. I decided to actually do the math, and it turns out that if my Shepard is going to fit into the context of this story, his age is going to be 41 by the time of Mass effect 2 Arrival. That is a little disappointing because I usually think of my Shepard as being in his late twenties, or very early thirties. Aw well, keep the reviews or suggestions coming._

* * *

><p>It was now eleven o' clock at night. Most of his crew had gone to sleep, aside from Legion who just stood there in what one could call a standby mode. It was the first time in a long time that any of them had slept outside of a sleeper pod. Grunt, Jack, Zaeed, Jacob, and Kasumi dozed off almost immediately. Samara was in a trance with her eyes flared slightly with biotics. No one heard a word out of the room Thane had chosen, but he didn't leave since entering, so he must still be in there. Mordin wouldn't be asleep for long given the Salarian's hyper active biology. Tali and Garrus stayed up a little longer. The both of them were worried for Shepard.<p>

"I don't like the look he got in his eye when he saw that riddle. I dislike the one he got after reading that message even more." Tali said worriedly.

"Its like he saw a ghost." Garrus replied.

"Something is really bothering him. He hasn't mentioned anything about who he thinks the attackers are to anyone but the Admiral."

"This is personal, I can tell that much. I just hope Shepard let us in sooner rather than later." Garrus stated, which put the both of them on edge even more before they went to sleep.

* * *

><p>The room Shepard and Miranda stayed in was deathly quiet. The plain metal walls and bunk beds were a stark contrast to the beautiful woman who was sleeping in a bed in the middle of the room. The light reflected off her pale white skin, and was absorbed by the jet black armor with red details that was standing at her side. Her breathing stayed undisturbed as she slept peacefully, oblivious to the exhausted man hovering over her. Shepard couldn't help himself, he felt sick to his stomach. This woman was highly trained in every field a trained killer needed. She could tell when a robot was lying to her, and had eyes in the back of her head. Her genetic engineering made her three times as able to hear, smell, taste, feel, and sense things average humans did. And he was practically breathing down her neck, fully clad in cumbersome armor, and she didn't stir in the slightest. He knew it wasn't because she was tired or felt safe, she still would have noticed. It was because he was utilizing skills he developed so long ago while in the Reds. It was because he is just that good at this. Watching people, studying people, waiting for them to show their weaknesses.<p>

_Stop right there!_ He screamed at himself in his head. This wasn't like those times. Was it? He knew what he was doing is stupid, but he thought of no other alternative. This attack, that message, was directed at him and no other. He did not know exactly who is behind this, but he knew where he could start looking. But he couldn't, no, he wouldn't expose Miranda and his friends to this part of his life. For their sake as much as his. Checking to make sure his armor, helmet included, was comfortable and that his weapons are in place, he stood to his full height of 6'3 and stared at Miranda for another thirty seconds.

"I love you." He whispered so that she didn't wake. He said it for her and himself. He wasn't sure how many lovers or friends he was going to have at the end of this road. He had tried to forget his past, his old life. He had tried to forget himself. That worked for characters in story books and movies and videos games, when a happy ending was assured. Reality is so much crueler. He left the outpost. No one, not even the master assassin or the perceptive geth infiltrator noticed him take his leave.

* * *

><p>Shepard had left the outpost and wandered his ways through the back alleys of the city. He didn't want to attract any attention right now. He was wearing his helmet to hide his features, but in hindsight wandering around fully clad in his armor and armed to the teeth with small weapons of mass destruction probably wasn't the best idea. He moved as quickly as he could toward the transport station. Any civilians who saw him did their best to ignore him and get out of his way. Anyone in the alleys looking for an easy victim were smart enough to pass on him. He came to the edge of the alley he had been walking in and saw the transport station. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of the major transit hub in the city, which was very exposed. Sighing, he took a step out into the open. People who were walking past at the moment gasped in shock at the walking war machine. He noticed more than a few police officers get on their radios. He speed walked to the clerk who began making note of all the exits.<p>

"I need a transport to the lower city." Shepard told the clerk.

The clerk looked him up and down.

"Of course you do." He said as he called for a one man transport on his terminal.

Shepard was slightly insulted, but he left to wait for his transport to be delivered.

When it arrived he flew to the junction that connected the lower city to the upper city. The upper city was built atop the twentieth century, skyscrapers and streets built at levels rising ever higher into the air. The lower city was a whole new world. Technology mixed with brick, and the proximity to the ground with the upper city looming overhead made it feel claustrophobic to those who were unaccustomed to it. The people changed as well. Gone was the citizen who was confident in his stride, feeling safe and wondering what was for dinner. Now came the citizen who walked with a world weary hobble, looking over his shoulder constantly and wondering if he was going to even get dinner. Shepard felt sick to his stomach again. He was comfortable here.

He landed the transport at a security hub that was in the center of the city. This was the most dangerous, crowded, dirty part of the lower city. However, it is also where anyone who was worth knowing or worth doing business with would be in. He stepped out and locked the transport, but it was probably pointless. He doubted that it would be here when he got back, even with the security. Shepard blended in better here. It wasn't Omega, but Earth cities still had a mercenary presence. Most of them were small time, but he recognized the armor of the Blue Suns on four men outside small storage unit. It left little to the imagination to wonder what is in there. He made his way to the heart of the lower city. Time hasn't touched this place. The same decrepit homes stood scattered around on either side of the street with a complete lack of order or organization. Small businesses attempting to carve out an honest living peddled their wares while trying to make sure no one was making of with their stuff without paying. Law enforcement was making the futile attempt of trying to console the riff raff that has become the local gangs, who left their mark on any space that was available. He recognized most of them. A green fist with spiked knuckles tagged on the side of a convenience store was the logo for the Bruisers. They consisted mostly of brain dead gorillas who had a tendency for starting riots. On a nearby townhouse he saw a hovercraft with over sized engines and flames sprouting out the back. This was the symbol of the Skyjacks. If it had jets, they would jack it. It took him near thirty minutes of walking before he came across a nightclub tagged with the human skull and red ten on it's forehead. He had arrived.

* * *

><p>Mordin awoke after just an hour of sleep. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his iconic lab coat. He had the room to himself and pondered silently to himself.<p>

_Alliance grade bedding lacks proper support for back and vertebrae likely prolonged exposure to these sleeping conditions will have detrimental effects on spine and neck of soldiers decreasing effectiveness and attentiveness before and during engagements. Should probably check on Commander Shepard recent events seem to suggest history with aggressors which would lead to psychological stress even more than physical stress which room did he stay in? Aw yes._

Mordin cultivated that entire thought in about half a second. He got up and left for Shepard's room. As soon as he entered Miranda was up and out of her bed, tensed but in a relaxed posture. As soon as she realized it was just the professor, she dropped her guard.

"Aw, Mordin. Sorry for the rude welcoming." She said rubbing her eyes.

"No need for apology. Years of training and working for Cerberus likely made you develop impulsive behavior given the dangerous black op characteristics of their operations and genetic engineering to maximize human abilities has also given innate inner ear function so that sounds can be heard and processed even while in deep sleep (takes a deep breath), not to mention the attacks on,"

"Yes professor, I know I'm a little jumpy. Now, was their something you needed?" The professor was truly a genius and his theories are compelling, but his incessant ramblings really tried one's patience.

"Aw yes. Came to check on Shepard regarding the attack and theft of the Normandy and kidnapping of crew wanted to know what that message meant, where is he?"

The realization dawned on Miranda that Shepard wasn't in the room. They both retired here after he spoke privately to Hackett but she dozed off before him. She went to the locker he had stored his equipment in and felt a lump build in her throat when it was empty.

"Mordin, we need to have a word with Hackett."

"Yes."

The two found Hackett in an office usually reserved for chief of police. He looked up from his datapad calmly without any emotion.

"Can I help you?"

"You can start by telling us where Shepard is." She said so in an inside voice but the intensity was clearly present. Hackett wasn't intimidated in the slightest.

"If you think I have spirited Shepard away somewhere because of the relay incident, I ask you to give me a little more credit than that, and to show some more respect."

Miranda admitted to herself that she was a little taken back by the admiral's sterness. She wasn't used to being given orders by anyone who wasn't the Illusive Man or Shepard.

"If you didn't do anything to him, then where has he gone. You were the only person he spoke to since unlocking that message. He must have told you something important." Desperation began creeping into her voice.

Hackett looked at nothing in particular on his desk. He sighed and looked at her. Her look tortured him. It was the look someone had for something they really loved.

"The commander gave me vague details. He seemed reluctant to tell me any details really. He told me he had a feeling as to who is involved, but he couldn't be sure who exactly or why." He saw the expression on Miranda's face become more worried at his lack of information.

"However, he did tell me that he knew exactly what man he had to go see first if he needed to pick up the trail."

Hope returned to Miranda's eyes, along with fiery determination.

"Who is he?"

* * *

><p>"Tyrone Williams." Shepard said to the bouncer at the nightclub. The large man was dressed in a suit and had expensive looking shades on, but he fit the criteria for any run of the mill bouncer. Rather than think for himself, he repeated any line his boss gave him.<p>

"Mr. Williams doesn't see anyone that doesn't have an appointment."

Appointment? Tyrone requires appointments now?

"Listen, I know Tyrone probably gives you a tasty treat every time you say that, but this is really important so I'll say that I snuck in through a window." He tried to walk in but the bouncer grabbed his shoulder and placed his hand on the pistol at his hip. Shepard sighed as he grabbed his own pistol and drove the but of it into the bouncer's gut. As he gasped for breath Shepard brought it back and clocked him in the back of the head. The bouncer fell to the ground and Shepard heard a resounding crack. He assumed that the bouncer had broken his glasses when he hit the ground face first, or his nose.

He entered the night club to a plethora of vices and, well vices. Alcohol was flowing over the bar into the eager hands of patrons, and then flowing back out when the liver of some of them finally gave out. Drugs were being smoked, snorted, eaten, drunken, and injected. Unwillingly, in the case of some girl who sat with a shifty looking older man. The dark orange and yellow lights pulsated in different patterns and reflected off the mirrors on the walls and ceiling. The strippers were caught perfectly in the beams of light that cast an alluring glow on their sweaty bodies. It also caught perfectly on the poor chump who tried to get too physical with one of the ladies and promptly had a bottle smashed over his head by another bouncer. Shepard could see an observation room high up in the back. That has to be where Tyrone is. Shepard made his way to the door, passing a DJ wearing a robotic looking helmet that now put on a mix of techno and pop music that got the patrons doing rather inappropriate dances. The guard at the door shared the same attitude, and line, as the one at the door. He was about to receive the same treatment when their attention was drawn to the window of the observation room. Another guard motioned to this one to let Shepard up. He opened the door and let him through.

He walked threw a thin corridor until he came to a blast door. Two guards scanned him for any concealed weapons. When they found none, one guard opened the door. The other stepped in Shepard's way.

"You show respect now, ya hear." Shepard just rolled his eyes at this. After seeing the state of the club and all his men refer to him as Mr. Williams, it was clear Tyrone hasn't changed.

The observation room was more lavishly decorated than the club. A mini bar in the corner, several monitors showing different angles of the club, and several guards armed with more than just pistols. Of course, they were a little more than distracted with the women flaunting themselves about in the room. A large couch in the middle of the room drew his attention, or rather the person sitting in it drew his attention. Tyrone Williams isn't a very big man. His features were relatively plain, with the exception of his buckteeth gave him an overbite. The only real reason he has survived as long as he has is because is smart and opportunistic. This was contradicted by his vanity however.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't 'the' John Shepard. How long has it been since we last spoke?" He asked before taking a sip of his cocktail.

"Not quite long enough. I seen you've done some remolding."

Tyrone was too eager to boast about his club to notice the insult.

"Ya like it? Some good investing with the right friends can get you everything in life. And I didn't even have to save the galaxy a few times, did I? You, get my old friend here a drink!" He said to a scandalously dressed woman who was practically hanging off of him.

"You still take the strong stuff, don't you John."

"Compared to Ryncol it might as well be apple juice."

"I guess that's some alien drink? Heard about you getting a whole crew full of lizards and robots and squid heads. Even got to know one, know what I mean?"

The woman brought Shepard a drink in a long glass, and winked at him when he took it from her.

"Come on Tyrone. Don't tell me your like these new blood punks who are xenophobic." He still didn't take a drink.

"I've never been too trusting of aliens, but the Reds say they are bad, so I gotta play along."

Tyrone was still the coward who hid behind others that he was all those years ago.

"So John, I assume that you came here for a reason other than to say hi, and beat up my guard. I don't suppose you would be interested in a job? With that powerful ship of yours, you could really help me,"

"I'm not here to smuggle for you Tyrone. Even if I wanted to, you know I couldn't."

"What do you mean I know you couldn't?"

Shepard brought up his omni tool and transmitted the message on the data pad recovered from the site of the Normandy's theft to Tyrone. He looked at the message and Shepard saw the sweat gather on his brow.

"I,I, I have no idea what this is."

"No idea? The message says welcome home from the Reds, the real Reds. Your still a part of the gang, and this mentions you. All of you." Shepard took a step towards Tyrone, and the guards trained their shotguns on him. This made Tyrone stand up a little straighter.

"Just who the hell do you think you are, huh? You leave on a very sour note, waltz on back here like you own the place, disrespect me in my own club, and think that your old glory still carries weight?"

"The only reason you haven't pissed your pants yet you little rat is because you've got these poor men here who are only going to get hurt if they try to defend you!" He took another step towards Tyrone, who took another one back and almost tripped over the couch.

"I don't know who is screwing with me, but I know your involved. Your aren't capable of pulling something like this off yourself, so I want to know what your role is in this and who is pulling the strings."

Tyrone was beginning to lose his composure. He looked down at the Reds tattoo on his hand. and looked back to Shepard.

"John, I don't have anything to do with stealing your ship or kidnapping your crew. If someone is trying to fuck up your trial, then I"

"I never said anything about a trial."

Tyrone's eyes widened and his mouth opened without words.

"And if you don't have anything to do with this, then why is my drink spiked with the poison you always used to use to put people to sleep during an op?"

Tyrone panicked like a rat between a cat and a mouse trap.

"Fuck you John! They're a lot of fucked up people who want your head, and I ain't giving them a reason to come get mine. Take him down!"

Shepard saw one of the guards make a move towards him through his peripheral vision. He spun and threw his spiked drink into the guards face, glass and all. As he grabbed his face in pain, another guard cocked his shotgun. Shepard drew his pistol and shot the weapon out his hand before shooting him in the shin. Shepard sprinted towards the bar and vaulted over as bullets barley missed him. The two remaining guards were emptying their shotgun shells aimlessly into the bar. Shepard maneuvered himself out of the way of the bullets that began penetrating the bar. He could hear Tyrone even over this ruckus.

"Try not to kill him. They'll pay more if he's alive."

The fools didn't even realize that he moved behind them. He shot both of the guards in their shoulders. Tyrone whirled around and, thinking quickly, grabbed the woman who had brought Shepard a drink and used her as a human shield. Shepard kept his pistol pointed at them, but held his fire.

"I see you haven't changed Tyrone."

"I'm hoping you haven't either John. You always were to soft to do the nasty things." He was circling towards the door.

"All I wanted were answers Tyrone. This didn't have to happen."

"You don't know these people John. Well, some of them you will. They have some ultimate plan that I wasn't even let in on. And I can't go to the Alliance. Not after what we've done."

Shepard cringed at that last remark.

"You can't just keep crawling into another hole hoping to hide from everything. You can't bury mistakes beneath all these lights and men and money."

"Says you, you fucking hypocrite!" He threw the hostage women towards Shepard and sprinted out the door into the main club area.

Instead of following that way, Shepard shot the window and jumped through it. He landed with a painful thud, but recovered in time to see Tyrone come out of the stairwell and see him. Shepard shot at him to try and wound him, and the patrons panicked and trampled each other to get out. This made it hard for the guards to get in. Shepard thought he had him until the DJ with the helmet pulled a tempest sub machine gun from under the turn tables and forced him into cover. Shepard heard the music turn into some hardcore techno beat and the DJ began firing again. He was a better shot than the guards, and he had lots of cover. Shepard had to get in close.

He flipped a table and pushed it towards the DJ, using it as cover. The weaker bullets of the sub machine gun couldn't penetrate as shotgun shells could. When he was close enough, Shepard vaulted over and wrestled with the DJ. He tried punching him in the head, but that just yielded pain for him because of the helmet. The DJ was trying to aim his gun at Shepard's head. Shepard held his hand away and kneed the DJ in the gut. He heard a muffled gasp form the DJ. Shepard then pistol whipped him so that he collided with the turn tables. The sound of the table being bumped went for a second and the music died. The DJ was unconscious from the blow. Shepard saw Tyrone escape through a concealed door behind the bar and he went after him. The door led to a narrow corridor, which then led to a stairwell going up. Shepard began closing the distance on the stairs. They had traveled maybe three flights until exiting through a door onto the roof of the night club. Two single person transports were landed on the roof. Tyrone had outpaced him by maybe fourteen steps, but it was enough for him to get in and activate the hover car. Shepard shot at it, but the cockpit glass was bullet proof. His only chance was to pilot the other vehicle. He got in and took off after Tyrone.

Shepard chased him through the lower city. If they crossed into the upper city, law enforcement was sure to crack down quickly. Tyrone flew into a busy district in hopes of losing Shepard. This was even more dangerous than when he had chased that asari spectre through Illium. The other vehicles hurried out of the way as the two veered into increasingly thicker traffic.

"Were gonna get someone killed this way." Shepard said to himself. He opened the cockpit of the hover car and drew his phalanx. He had to try harder to avoid traffic with only one hand steering. He waited, waited, waited, saw the engine, and took the shot. The bullet flew through the air, scraped the top of another persons new Ferrari hover car, and plowed into Tyrone's engine. He lost control of the car and brought it lower so he landed on the ground instead of plowing into a building. The resulting crash was still pretty violent. Shepard landed a few feet from the wreck. He inspected the crash and saw a trail of blood leading to a crawling, badly beaten up Tyrone. Shepard walked slowly towards, easily outpacing his crawl. He planted his foot on Tyrone's back, which made him cry in pain.

"You son of a bitch, you son of a bitch!"

Shepard activated the laser on his pistol and trained it on Tyrone's forehead.

"C'mon John, you don't have to do that."

"Believe me, after all this trouble, I really want to. However, if you'll come quietly, I might just forget any of this happened."

Tyrone looked at the gun, then at Shepard, then the crashed hover car, then at the gun again. He sighed his agreement.

* * *

><p>Shepard had called for a medical pick up to transport him and Tyrone back to the outpost. His welcome back was expected.<p>

"What the hell were you thinking?" That sweet accent screamed in fury.

"It was easier if I did this by myself. Besides, I got what I needed." He patted Tyrone on the back as he was hauled off by some policemen.

"So you thought it was a good idea to go and shoot up a night club and fly through traffic like a lunatic?"

"No. I thought it was a good idea to go and ask an old acquaintance some questions. Everything else is his fault."

Miranda was taken back by the tone of Shepard's voice, and his demeanor. He seemed so cold and distant all of a sudden.

Shepard walked past her to Admiral Hackett.

"Sir, I would like about twenty minutes alone with him in an interrogation room."

"What do you plan on learning from him, Commander?"

"Who's next."

Hackett nodded and had Tyrone held in the interrogation room. This room had mirrors that allowed you to look in, but not out. Everyone of Shepard's squad and Hackett watched as Shepard entered and sat down across from Tyrone.

"So I'm going to ask you the same question that asked you before you caused this farce. Who took my ship and kidnapped my crew and why?"

"And I'm gonna give you the same answer I did then. Fuck, you,"

He couldn't finish what he was saying because Shepard threw a punch straight into his mouth. The force nearly sent him backwards off his chair.

"You can't hide behind the money, guns, and women anymore Tyrone. Drop the tough guy act and tell me what I want to know."

"**I'm **hiding? Look at you. You parade around as some saint who does no wrong, but fame and fortune stems from the suffering of others. What about the families of those marines on Akuze? Do you think they care that someone who fought along side their brothers, fathers, and sons saved the galaxy? Where was that hero on Akuze?"

Shepard stood up, walked over to him, and promptly kicked him in the side of the head. This pushed Tyrone off his chair and he landed in a bloody heap on the ground. Shepard knelt down and pushed his head into the ground, placing all his wait in one hand of Tyrone's head.

"I won't ask you again dammit!"

He heard Tyrone say something and leaned in closer to hear. Through a broken, bloody mouth, he drove Shepard past his breaking point.

"Do you miss Anastasia?"

Shepard grabbed him by his collar and lifted him into the air before slamming him down on the table. He then drove his hand into Tyrone's mouth, grabbed hold of his two buck teeth, and began to pull. The mangled screaming made Garrus turn away.

"What the hell has gotten into Shepard?"

With a final pull, the two large teeth were wrenched from Tyrone's wailing mouth. Shepard put his hand back into his mouth and was about to try again with one of his canines when muffled pleas barely escaped his mouth.

"Stop, stop! An informant, I don't know who he was, he came to me and wanted me to smuggle weapons to an anonymous account. That is it, nothing about your ship, I swear! He said he had already contacted Marcus and Rico and,"

"Wait! Marcus Robinson and Rico Contreras?"

"Ya, them. He said he already made contact with them about something before coming to me. I don't know anything else John, I promise you!" Tyrone was crying now. Shepard resisted the urge to drive his elbow into Tyrone's head. Instead, he left him there on the table, crying in a bloody mess.

Shepard stepped out of the interrogation room and walked past his crew. He didn't say a word to them, just gave them a knowing stare. He had some explaining to do. He walked away without noticing another reason why they were staring at him. Along the side of his jaw, an orange glowing scar had developed on his face.

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out. School has been a living hell lately. I hope this doesn't seem oddly pieced together, and I realize the names aren't very creative, but what can you do. I don't think I describe environments very well, so I'll work on that. Chapter 5 will be up as soon I as possible, but reviews will make it go faster. <em>


	6. Loyal Wolf

_Really sorry for the long wait. So things are going to start to heat up because Shepard is going to be paying a visit to his old 'friends'. Will his crew follow him into his own personal hell, or will they turn away from the hidden monster?_

* * *

><p>Shepard stood outside of the military outpost and breathed in the cool night air. Real air, not recycled oxygen of the Normandy. A slight breeze whipped across his face and shook the trees. Living trees, not metal and wires and glass. A squirrel sprinted across ground. A harmless animal, not a mercenary or killer robot. This would have been a sobering and relaxing experience for anyone else who had been through what he had. However, Shepard was busy scraping Tyrone's dry blood out of his finger nails. It was unsanitary to have another person's blood on you, and it distracted him partly from his faintly glowing scar. He hadn't needed a mirror to see it. The glow was faint but noticeable, and had reflected off the walls as he made his way outside. He still remembered doctor Chawkwas's message.<p>

_The Lazarus Project has left you with an unusual side effect. Should your psychological tendencies begin to change, then your scars will take longer to heal. They may even degrade._

That was a disturbing thought. Had he acted so differently just a few minutes ago that his scars would turn into this? Was this a new change in his demeanor, or just repressed feelings that have resurfaced? More importantly, could he stop it from happening again? Footsteps from behind snapped him to attention. Despite the work of art before him, he didn't really want to talk to her right now.

"Miranda, please just leave it alone."

"Leave it alone? You just ripped that man's damn teeth out, and who is Marcus and Rico, and this Anastasia?" She asked with what he could have sworn to be accusation.

Shepard was already in a bad mood, and her tone was unwelcome.

"Don't talk to me that. I know that I've left all of you out of the loop, but I'll be damned if I let you address me like I'm one of your old lackeys." He said in a tone that was, to his disturbance, not harsher than he had opted for.

Miranda was visibly taken aback by his defensiveness. But, like the man she loved, she was as stubborn as a mule.

"Everyone saw you torture that man like you enjoyed it. He told you three names, and now you don't want to share your info? With all due respect Commander, get over yourself! You owe it to your squad to not leave them in the dark. You have no right to carry out some personal vendetta at the risk of the others."

"You think this is some grudge I have against these people? I joined the Alliance sixteen years ago just to get away from all this, from them! I don't want you, any of you involved with this. For your own sake."

_And my own._ He thought to himself.

"John. You've helped me, helped all of them more than we can repay. I trusted you with Oriana, Garrus with Sidonis, Samara with Morinth, Thane with Kolyat, and so on. Why can't you trust us with this?"

_Because you won't trust me after this is over._

Shepard stared into her deep brown eyes. The fire that had been present before had subsided, replaced with concern for him. It was almost overwhelming enough to get him to open his mouth. His tongue had turned to lead however. He couldn't, he refused to tell her anything. At least not until he knew more about what was going on. But those eyes and her words were braking him down,

"Commander, meet me in my office. Hackett out."

_Thank you._

He started to walk past her, but she stepped in front of him defiantly.

"If you think your just going to walk away without,"

"Do you trust me?" He interrupted.

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

Miranda was caught off guard by the question, and by her hesitance. She did trust Shepard. She trusted him more than anyone else. But at this moment, the way he said it, her gut was sending off alarm signals. That disturbed her even more. How she not trust the man she loved, even just a shadow of doubt?

"Yes I do."

"You what?"

Once again, her gut told her to be cautious. Why was she so hesitant to trust Shepard? No, it was more than that. She couldn't believe that this thought had entered her mind. But Shepard's recent activities and change in attitude made it undeniable. She was scared to trust Shepard.

"Yes, I trust you." She lied.

Without any sign that he approved or acknowledged her answer, he stepped past her to go meet the Admiral. Miranda watched him go, shadows figurative and real clinging to him as he began disappearing farther down the dark corridor, his glowing scar a fear inspiring beacon in the dark.

* * *

><p>"Commander, you want to tell me just what that was in there?" Hackett said as he took his seat in his office.<p>

Shepard sat in the seat across from him and remained silent for a few moments. He honestly didn't want to tell Hackett anything, but he knew he wasn't getting out of here without giving an explanation.

"I needed to know who else was involved in this. Tyrone is resourceful, but he isn't competent enough to do anything like this alone. He never has been." Shepard immediately regretted saying that last part.

"What is that supposed to mean? Commander, I know you have a history with these people. That message on the data pad, how he spoke to you when you 'interrogated' him. Who are these people to you.?"

"No offense sir, but that is my business, and I prefer to keep it that way."

"Well what you don't seem to understand is that when you go shooting up a nightclub, crash a hovercraft in a heavily populated area, and then torture a prisoner, that it becomes my goddamn business." The Admiral spoke with an authoritative voice.

Shepard felt anger churn inside him.

"Don't talk to me like I'm some Alliance rookie. The only reason I've complied this much is out of respect for you Admiral. After everything I've done for you, I expect you to do the same!"

"Dammit Shepard, swallow your pride. This isn't just about you, your crew is at stake as well."

"This is just about me, I didn't see anyone's name other than mine on that message. This is just about me, and I intend to do everything I can to keep it that way." He stood up from his chair and turned for the door.

"Where do you think your going?" Hackett said still seated.

"I'm going to follow up on one of the leads Tyrone gave me. Hopefully he will bring me closer to the people behind this."

"And what if I told you that you weren't allowed to leave here?"

Shepard turned half way to the Admiral.

"Then I don't have permission to leave here. Doesn't mean you could keep me here." He left the office.

Hackett didn't bother giving the order to forbid Shepard from leaving the outpost. He knew Shepard was right.

* * *

><p>Shepard went into the city and booked another transport for the lower city. This time he took a public one, and at a different transport hub. To draw less attention, he had only brought his phalanx pistol for weapons. He had also left the bulky kestrel armor behind and wore a more easily concealed suit of light armor. He wore a jacket over his torso, and nobody payed much attention to the greaves, gloves, or boots. He now looked like the average rabble that traveled to the lower city. A thick scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face covered the glowing scar he developed. He pondered silently about his conversation with Hackett. Had he been anyone else, he would have been court marshaled on the spot. Thankfully he and Hackett had worked extensively with each other since he took command of the Normandy. Still, he knew that Hackett, and Miranda for that matter, wouldn't be placated by his words for long. He would eventually need to give an explanation as to what was going on.<p>

_I just wish I knew myself._

The transport arrived at its destination and everyone filed off. After a few seconds of being rudely pushed out of the way, Shepard got off and found himself in what he would call one of the safer neighborhoods of the lower city. It was still dangerous, undeniably, but the police presence was greater and the gangsters here were little more than rebellious youngsters. Marcus's father still lived in this area, and he might know where he is. Shepard began making his way to what he hoped to still be Marcus's parent's house. The people walking or standing idly in the streets spared him brief glances. The scarf was probably attracting attention, but his glowing scar would even more so.

"23, 24, 25." He said aloud.

The house numbered twenty five was old and decrepit. The lawn was unkempt, paint peeling off the walls, and the shingles looked like they were hanging on for dear life. He opened the gate with a painfully loud squeak and walked to the front door. Finding no doorbell or body scanner, he simply knocked. He knocked three more times before an elderly man opened the door. He brandished the cane he used to walk as a weapon, steadying himself on the door frame.

"Who the hell are you? Whatever your trying to push I don't want it, now get the hell outta here before I shove my cane,"

"Mr. Robinson?" Shepard asked while taking a step back.

"Yeah that's my name, what its to yeah? Now leave before I, (coughs)"

While the old man choked on his own air, Shepard unwrapped the scarf from his face.

"(coughs) Leave before, before, John?" Mr. Robinson asked wide eyed.

Shepard just nodded. The old man was starting to shake from steadying himself on the door frame and placed his cane back on the ground.

"Jesus John, when did you come back to Earth?"

"Just a couple of days ago."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Marcus."

Mr. Robinson breathed erratically for a moment at the mention of his son's name.

"Come, come inside. We'll talk inside."

Shepard stepped inside and saw that the inside of the house was much more presentable than outside. Clean carpet, dusted shelves, washed dishes. A portrait hung on the wall, depicting Mr. Robinson, though a several years younger, a woman around the same age, and a young man between them. Marcus looked so happy.

"In here John, have a seat." He told him from the living room.

Shepard did as he was told. The living room was very plain, with the exception of a fireplace burning across from him. Not many houses still had one. Mr. Robinson took a seat in an arm chair with a tired exhale of breath.

"So John, its been awhile since you come around here. No one around here has heard from you since you joined the Alliance awhile back, and for two years you were thought to be dead!"

"You should get off world once and awhile." Shepard asked with a smirk.

Mr. Robinson laughed.

"Right. I'm too old for my own world already. I don't think I'd last long enough to learn the name of an alien. Still, I'm not completely oblivious to the universe. You have the honor of being the first human phantom!"

"Specter."

"Whatever, it means even aliens respect you. And apparently the galactic community has you to thank for stopping some madman from destroying the fortress!"

"Citadel."

"That to. You've, uh, you've done a lot for yourself John, for humanity. You can be proud of that. But I'm talking too much, what was it ya needed?"

"I need to find Marcus." Shepard said with a little more conviction in his voice.

"Oh, right. I'm sorry John, but I haven't heard from him in close to fourteen years now."

Shepard's heart dropped.

"What do you mean you haven't heard from him in seven years? Your his father."

"I know who I am dammit! But since coming back from one of his construction jobs, Marcus looked like he was seeing ghosts everyday."

_Construction jobs? Oh Marcus, even you never told anybody, not even your family._

"When did you lose contact with him?"

"Well about a year after you left, his mother died. My dear Valerie. He had been pretty unstable before that point, but her death pushed him over the edge or something. He just up and left the city entirely about a year after that."

"Do you know where he went?"

"He didn't tell me anything, but if I had to guess, he may have gone to an old cottage we used to take him to when he was a kid. He always did like it there. It's up in the forests in British Colombia."

"Damn, that's gonna be a trip. Thanks ." Shepard got up and headed for the door.

"Hey hold on a second. Why do you want to find Marcus anyway?"

Shepard couldn't tell him that he was going to possibly kill his son. Since joining the Reds, Shepard had become quick friends with Marcus. Marcus's family had always treated Shepard with respect, even letting Shepard sometimes sleep in their house after jobs for the Reds. Of course, Mr. Robinson and his wife never learned that he and Marcus were a part of the gang, much less the things Marcus was doing while away on one of his 'construction' jobs.

"Just, some old business we need to discuss."

Whether it was his old age making him lazy or that he genuinely believed Shepard, he nodded.

"Just be gentle with him if you find him. You were his only friend Shepard, and no offense, but he really needed you."

Shepard left without a word. He walked down the steps and onto the side walk, then continued until he was out of sight of the house and then leaned against a wall. Bad memories were invading his mind. Marcus wasn't a bad man, just troubled enough to make bad desicions. He was always scared, nervous, and unsure of himself. Of all of the old members, he kept to himself the most. Shepard was the only one he ever got close to.

"And I never even stayed to make sure he was alright after that, 'job'." He said the last word in a haunted and disgusted voice.

_Hmph, alright. None of us were alright after that. Some weren't even right to begin with._

He shook his head clear of the old thoughts. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to reminisce about them again. Then again, he hasn't ever been very lucky. Wrapping the scarf back around his face, he went to book a transport to BC. Unbeknown to him, three figures watching from a distance followed him stealthily.

"Come on, we can't let him out of our sight." Miranda said as she began following him again.

"I don't like this Miranda, it doesn't feel right trailing him when he explicitly told us to stay out of his way." Jacob said behind her.

"Don't feel bad Jacob. Shepard would do the same thing if one of us had told him to leave us alone. Looks like a little bit of his stubbornness has rubbed off on us." Garrus said following Miranda.

Sighing heavily, Jacob followed the two of them as they followed Shepard from a distance.

_More than just a little bit._

* * *

><p>The inter city shuttle was smelly, dirty, and had several tags along the hull. It was also big enough to hold almost forty people comfortably, so Shepard escaped more notice. Miranda, Garrus, and Jacob managed to escape his notice to. Amazingly, there were three turians on the ship including Garrus. The other two stood together and looked like dock workers. Even more amazingly, they weren't drawing stares from the other human passengers. Shepard couldn't help but smile at this acceptance of diversity amongst species. Everyone looked as pissed off about going to work as the next person.<p>

"Arriving at Port Vimarrk in five minutes."

Everyone on the shuttle began to stir and stretch from the thirty five minute long flight. With the improvements in technology, to fly across the country rarely took more than half an hour. Once the shuttle landed, everyone made their way off. Shepard looked around for an executive travel officer to process his request. He needed to get a pass to go into the forest. This was required because there has been a history of convicts and smugglers hiding out in there. If you wanted to live or travel out there, you needed a pass so that you could be tracked.

"I need a pass to go out into the forest." He said to the first executive travel officer he found.

" Are you a resident or visitor?" The large woman asked.

" Visitor." He replied.

She eyed him, taking in his armored hands and legs and feet.

" Mmmhmm." She said as she produced an electronic card.

Shepard took it from her and left before his ever dwindling patience ran out. He was getting angry because people kept talking down to him, he was angry that everyone here wouldn't get out of his way, angry that he was looking for people that he wanted to forget about, angry that his face was burning.

_What the hell is this?_

He touched his face near his lip. Some people began staring at him with surprise. Looking down as much as he could to see his mouth, a faint orange glow was barely visible. Shepard made a quick get away into the bathroom.

"What do think got into him?" Jacob asked after seeing the Commander practically run into the bathroom.

"Well, when you gotta go, you gotta go." Garrus half joked.

Inside the bathroom, Shepard bent over to look and see if anyone else was inside the stalls. He imagined that he must look like a pervert. After being sure the coast was clear, he unwrapped the scarf in front of the mirror. To his horror, another glowing scar had appeared over the end of his mouth. He now had a small, glowing smirk stuck on his face. He took several deep breaths and then splashed his face with water to calm down.

"Guess I need to keep my cool."

Hopefully Marcus didn't put up as much of a fuss as Tyrone did. He wrapped the scarf back around his face and left the bathroom. People were still giving him looks, so he made a hasty exit outside. A small docking bay with single man speeders was next to the gate to the wilderness. Shepard put down a deposit of two thousand credits and mounted one. He engaged the drive core and the speeder hovered a few feet of the ground. Pushing the the handle bars forward, it took off with a lurch and Shepard was zooming through the forest. Miranda, Jacob, and Garrus came out of hiding and watched him go.

"How are we going to follow him now?" Garrus asked no specifically.

"I've got a homing beacon on his omni tool signature. He could be on the other side of the planet and we could find him." Miranda answered.

"How long have you had that bug on him?" Garrus asked.

"Just a little precaution I took when Shepard was brought back from the dead." She replied.

"You don't think you can trust him enough to turn it off?" Jacob asked her.

"I don't know what to trust about him right now Jacob, but I doubt he's going to tell us anything any time soon. Following him is the only way to find out whats going on, so lets stop wasting time and get a move on."

* * *

><p>Zooming through the trees on his speeder, Shepard came to a startling realization. He was wasn't sure he remembered where Marcus's cottage was. Cursing himself for not thinking ahead about this, he did his best to remember anything about coming up here with him. He remembered Marcus inviting him to the cottage for the first time. Marcus looked so nervous, afraid of being rejected and hating himself for asking in the first place. Then Shepard remembered the look on his face when he had accepted. The surprise, and happiness. Shepard remembered how kind Marcus's family was to him, they were like his second family, his home away from home. Then Shepard remembered that gang war that happened when they were eighteen. Marcus shot this one guy in the head and he looked like a child who had seen a monster in the closet. His shock, fear, anger, hatred for himself. Then he remembered that last job. One last job, he had told himself and Marcus. If only they hadn't gone, maybe Marcus wouldn't be so screwed up right now.<p>

_Maybe I wouldn't be going through this, putting all my friends through this right now if I hadn't gone. Maybe if he hadn't done what he did, if only he didn't lie to me, if only he,_

Shepard veered sharply to the left because he was so lost in his thoughts that he had almost collided with a tree. He brought the speeder to a rough halt that nearly threw him over the handles. He just floated in the air, breathing loudly over the silence of the forest. Despite the cool air, he was sweating as if he was having a bad dream. He unwrapped the scarf and let the air cool his face. Moving his hand across his glowing scars once more, pressed the handle bars forward again and took off. It seems that during his memories one awry, he happened upon a landmark that he remembered. It was a noticeably larger tree than the other ones in the immediate area. If he remembered correctly, Marcus's cottage was just due east of here. With renewed conviction, he flew off in that direction.

"He's on the move again, heading east." Jacob said beside Garrus, who was flying the smaller transport.

"Looks like he found out where he needs to go, we need to let him stay far enough ahead of us that he does not see us." Miranda said from the back seat.

She sat back with her arms crossed and a concrete solid expression. She was acting like she was on a job for Cerberus, and she didn't like it. It felt wrong going behind Shepard's back like this, but he was acting so differently lately. He was taking risks, and claiming that its for our own their own good.

_What are you hiding John? Why are these people after you, what hold do they have on you. Why won't you let us help you?_

* * *

><p>It was all coming back to him now. The pile of dead trees, that boulder shaped like an arm, and finally the steady incline of the hill. He reached the top of the hill and could see through the thick trees and bush, the cottage some sixty yards away. Shepard managed to get about twenty feet before he realized that there was no way he was going to make it through the thick treeline with the speeder. He disengaged the drive core and it drifted to the ground, kicking up the leaves. He stepped off and walked through the trees on foot. The cottage grew in view until the door was easily made out. Shepard stood in place for a few minutes, inspecting the structure. Walls made out of logs and brick, outdoor equipment piled against the wall lazily, roof covered with leaves and branches. In a nutshell, it looked like a regular old cottage. This still didn't make him drop his guard. He stepped towards the door and the sound of leaves being crushed underfoot echoed loudly in the air. Oddly loudly. He didn't hear any animals rustling about, or even footsteps from inside the cottage. He placed his hand on the door, and with a small push it swung open, unlocked.<p>

_Okay, this is the beginning of a lot of bad horror movies._

Checking to make sure his phalanx was still at his side, he stepped in. It was dark inside, with no lights on. Shepard found a switch and flicked it twice, but the lights didn't turn on. With his ears becoming more sensitive to sound because of his lack of vision, he navigated through the cottage. It wasn't very big, and he had checked all the rooms rather quickly. Nothing out of the ordinary, and no sign of Marcus. He was about to leave when he heard the sound of cracking glass. Looking down, he could make out a picture frame. Picking it up carefully, he walked just close enough to the open door so the light illuminated the picture inside it. Shepard nearly fell to his knees. He remembered this moment. Four people stood in the picture. Two of them were himself and Marcus, the other two filled him with white hot anger, overwhelming sadness, and all consuming regret. He moved his trembling fingers over the other two people in the picture.

"Oh, Anastasia," He said in a sad voice. Then his gaze fell on the man beside her, then moved back to her, then to his own picture again.

Shepard clenched his fists hard enough to hear the cracking of his knuckles, and the already damaged picture frame was suffering under his steel grasp. Then, on a feeling of pure emotion, Shepard raised it over his head smashed it on the ground. He proceeded to stomp on it and grind it into the floor until the picture and frame was just an illegible mess. He was breathing deeply, not from the physical exertion but from the emotional conflict. He wasn't quite sure how he felt, but he knew hate was one thing he felt. What he wasn't sure about was who he hated. Shepard looked up and through the door then remembered that he was in a potentially dangerous area, and he was having some sort of episode. He shook his head clear and leaned against the door frame to support himself as he got up. He imagined that he was looking like Marcus's elderly father right now.

_Speaking of Marcus's, where the hell is he?_

He went back outside and scanned the area. No other buildings were hear, so wherever Marcus was, he wasn't here. Sighing, Shepard began walking towards the trees so he could get to his speeder. Then his omni tool beeped, indicating that he was getting a message. Who would be calling him out here? Cautiously, he opened the message.

_Set your com link to an open channel._

Shepard messaged back asking who the messenger was. He waited for one minute for a reply. Figuring that they wouldn't message back, he set his com link to an open frequency.

"What the hell are you doing here John?" A man said over the com.

"Why don't you tell me who you are first?" Shepard replied to the blunt question.

"Don't keep being a smart ass John, it never was one of your good qualities. Now tell me, what the hell are you coming all the way out here to find me for."

"Marcus, is this you? Where are you?"

"Don't worry about that. Just know that I knew you were coming before you decided to come find me."

"Look, Marcus, I don't mean any harm, I just wanna talk."

"Like you spoke to Tyrone? I'm fine talking like this for now. But before we speak anymore, I want you to get rid of that pistol on your hip."

Shepard, still standing in the same spot, looked this way and that, scanning the area for any sign of Marcus.

"Yeah, right. Look Marcus, lets stop playing games and," He was interrupted aggressively by Marcus.

"This isn't a game John! Now I'm gonna ask you one more time. Take your pistol from your hip, and toss it into the treeline."

"Marcus,"

Then a tree beside him had the middle of it blown apart, and it tumbled toward Shepard. He barely managed to dive out of the way before the ground rumbled from the the tree hitting the ground. Standing back up, Shepard finally took the phalanx out its holster and threw it into the trees.

"I see your still using that same Anaconda sniper rifle you liked so much." Marcus didn't say anything back, but Shepard could still hear his breathing.

"Come on Marcus, talk to me."

"Why the hell should I talk to you? I should shoot you right now and be done with it. And unfortunately for, I used my only explosive cartridge on that tree, so it won't be that quick."

"Your gonna shoot me? I don't think so, we both know your no murderer."

"I'm not a murderer! Yah, I don't have the lives of as many innocent people under my belt as you or the others, but I've killed my share of good guys to." Marcus said this with mock pride, and Shepard could hear the disgust in his voice.

"That's the reason I moved out here. Maybe amongst all this nature and peace, I could forget about everything, and everything could forget about me. Clearly the former hasn't worked, and since your here, neither has the latter. You came here to kill me."

"No I haven't!" Shepard replied. He admitted to himself that the idea had crossed his mind.

"Bull shit! If you haven't come here to kill me, then what? You gonna try and take me in and pass off all your crimes on me? So you can protect your damn reputation? Oh John Shepard, only survivor of a thresher maw attack on Akuze! The first human spectre, hero of the Citadel, and so on and so goddamn forth!" Marcus spat through the com.

Despite being at a disadvantage, Shepard was growing very angry at Marcus.

"Look, I'm not here to take you in or kill you, but I advise you to calm down."

Shepard heard the sound of a bullet being chambered into a large weapon.

"Oh do you now?"

_Shit._

"I just want to talk. I need to find out why you guys are after me."

"What makes you think I know anything?"

"Tyrone was 'persuaded' to tell me somethings. He said that some informant came to him and payed him to smuggle weapons to an anonymous recipient. He also told me that this informant said that he went to see you and Rico before him."

Shepard heard Marcus start breathing heavily and erratically, but he didn't say anything.

"Dammit Marcus, who ever is doing this stole my ship and has members of my crew hostage! I need to know who is a part of this, and why they are doing it. And you need to tell me now!"

"Since when do you care about people close to you? I followed you to hell and back, kept all your secrets, watched your back, killed who you told me to kill. And what did you do for me? As soon as we got back from that job, joined the Alliance on some pang of a conscience after wrecking life for the rest of us!"

"Don't blame me for all the shit that you've gone through. You were just a loser afraid of his own shadow before Alexander put you on my team. I protected you, but I didn't give you the skills to blow a man's brains out from two thousand meters away. You were that kind of killer regardless of my actions."

"Shut up." Marcus said dangerously.

"What, now you got some balls? Where were they when your mother died, and you ran away out here, leaving your father by himself for seven years?"

Shepard felt something collide into his shoulder, flipping him head over heels and landing hard on the ground. He felt his shoulder dislocate from the impact.

"I said shut up."

Shepard put his arm to his shoulder and examined the damage. Marcus shot him with a blank, so there was no bleeding, but it still hurt a lot. Taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw, he popped it back into place.

"I could have done a lot more than that." Marcus said, and Shepard heard a full cartridge being ejected and another being loaded. He assumed that the ammunition was live now.

"What do you want me to say Marcus? That I'm sorry for botching that last job? Well I'm not. What we were doing there was wrong, no matter what we may have done before that. I know it, and you know it to. I think were the only ones who saw it that way. The others, I don't know how they stood on that. Your right though, you've always been loyal to me, and I returned the favor by leaving you when you needed me. I'm sorry about that. But that doesn't change things, my crew has been taken hostage, and because of this trial I can't just go after them. My best friends, the woman I love is getting tangled up in a web that is meant for me. Please Marcus, help me."

Shepard was dumbfounded. Through the com he could hear Marcus sobbing. Even more curious, Shepard felt himself being moved to tears as well. For over sixteen years, he had been carrying this in the back of his mind. It had been with him through training, surviving Akuze, the hunt for Saren, fighting the Colletors, those nights with Liara and Miranda. He couldn't, wouldn't talk to anyone else about it. Yet here he was pouring his heart out to one of the few people he considered a friend before joining the Alliance. Shepard always thought that he alone carried this burden, but talking with Marcus now, hearing his sorrow and self loathing, he realized that the life he led left scars everyone with scars.

"I don't know what to tell you John. This guy, wearing some crazy black and red armor, he found me out here about a week ago. He said that you would be coming back to Earth for a trial in front of the highest ranking Alliance reps. He knew all about me, about us, the entire team. He wouldn't tell me who he was working for, or what his angle was. He just wanted me to do something."

"What did he want you to do Marcus?"

"He wanted me to assassinate this Alliance Admiral, named Steven Hackett."

Shepard felt dread fill his chest. Who ever was behind this attack, they were bold enough to put a hit out on Admiral Hackett.

"Marcus, did you accept the job?" Shepard asked fearing the answer.

"No. No, I, I didn't. He didn't seem disappointed either. He just told me to think about it, and then he left. Then yesterday, some people I still have contact with in the city said that someone shot up Tyrone's night club, then chased him through the slums. He wasn't heard from on the streets since. So I figured that you had really come back, and were taking down anyone that guy had met. I thought I was next."

"Tyrone blew things way out of proportion. I just went to talk to him. As for your information, I believe you. So the question is, can I leave now?"

Marcus didn't answer him at first, and Shepard wasn't paying attention, because he could make out three figures approaching from the tree line.

* * *

><p>"He's moving slower now, but still moving. He's probably off of his speeder now and continuing on foot." Jacob said to Miranda.<p>

"That means that the forest is probably too thick for his speeder to go through, which means we're going to have to go on foot as well. Land near his vehicle and we will track him from there." Miranda said.

Garrus saw Shepherd's speeder down below and landed close to it. All three of them climbed out and inspected the area.

"There he is, past the trees." Garrus's keen eyes spotted Shepherd even through the thick trees.

"Alright. We've been hiding long enough, we need to confront him and find out what he is doing out here." Miranda said as she began walking through towards Shepard.

It took them a few minutes to get close enough to hear that Shepard was talking to himself.

"What the hell is he talking about? What job?" Garrus asked puzzled.

Miranda lost her patience. She was tired of skulking about like some street rat, and tired of Shepard's behavior. She sped up her pace and broke the tree line and Shepard turned to her. His look was one of shock and worry. She was about to give him an earful when he raised his hand and his mouth shaped as if he was about to speak, and then blood exploded from his chest.

* * *

><p>Shepard tasted the blood that had rushed into his mouth as the shot dropped him to his knees. He saw Miranda's expression go from peeved to surprised to absolutely terrified.<p>

_Damn, even when she is angry or scared, she is beautiful._

She made a move to help him, but he raised his hand to stop her.

"Go! Go, get to cover!" He screamed choking on his blood.

She hesitated and another shot blew into the tree beside her. She ran to cottage and hugged the wall, and Jacob and Garrus followed her.

"You son of a bitch! You lying son of a bitch! I should have known you came to bring me in!" Marcus roared into Shepard's ear.

Shepard didn't reply right away. Bringing up his omni tool, he administered all the medi gel that he had into the bullet wound. The shot had penetrated through his back and passed through one of his lungs. Every breath felt like he was inhaling glass shards. The medi gel made sure he didn't pass out, but he wouldn't last long without a doctor.

"Marcus, please, I didn't bring them here. They aren't here to get you, no is going to get you." He coughed again, spitting up more blood.

Garrus and Jacob and Miranda all watched in horror as Shepard knelt on the ground bleeding out. Miranda was barely holding back tears. She peeked her head out a little, but Shepard just shook his head to her.

"All I wanted was to be left alone, to forget, to be forgiven." Marcus said. He was sounding more and more irrational.

"Marcus, I'm dying. Please let us go. I promise that no one will come after you again."

"It doesn't matter if no one else comes to find me. I've still got myself. I can't forget myself. No one can forget themselves John. Everything reminds me of it. The air, the ground, people, everything makes me think of it. I'm living a nightmare."

"Marcus, you don't need to feel guilty."

"If I don't, who will? Tell me John, is she the one?"

"What?"

"That woman hiding behind the wall with the black man and the Turian. Is she the one you love?"

Shepard turned to Miranda. His vision was blurring from blood loss, but he saw her clear as day.

"Yes, yes she is."

"Take care of her. Don't be selfish and make her share your burden. Its one only we are meant to carry. Our punishment. I don't know about you, but I'm done living this waking nightmare. Only one thing to do now." Shepard heard the Anaconda sniper get loaded again, and then a rustling of something being turned around.

"I need to go to sleep."

"Marcus, don't!" Shepard pleaded, the realization donning on him.

"Stay safe John. Keep her safe. Thank you for all your years of friendship. And good luck."

"Marcus! Marcus!" Shepard yelled over the deafening sound of a rifle shot echoing through the intercom.

With another drop of blood, Shepard fell to the ground unconscious. On a mountain peak some two thousand meters away, the body of Marcus Robinson, finally escaped from his guilt and haunted memories, lay next to his custom made sniper rifle, with the com link still open. Like the bodies that it linked, it was deathly silent.

* * *

><p><em>Once again, I apologize for the inexcusably long wait. I just hope that I haven't lost any valued readers due to my procrastination. As always, reviews, advice, and suggestion are wanted.<em>


	7. What I do, I do for you

_Hello ever body. My deepest apologies for taking so long to get this out. A virus left me without a laptop for a longtime, so I haven't been able to work. I'll admit that I don't think this chapter is very good, but I thought it would be too chaotic to have it and the next Reds member all included in one document. So please leave reviews, good or bad, and suggestions if you have them._

* * *

><p>Garrus helped Jacob lift Shepard onto the stretcher, which was then loaded onto the Kodiak shuttle. He cringed with discomfort because some of Shepard's blood had covered his hand. It wasn't the first time he had an ally's, a friend's blood on him. It was just the fact that he felt so helpless right now, like he was stealing Shepard's life blood and reducing his chances of surviving, and he couldn't do anything about it. A pair of medics had come on the shuttle and worked feverishly to get Shepard stabilized until he could be operated on. The hatch closed and the shuttle took off with a slight lurch that irritated the working medics, and Miranda and Jacob and Garrus more. A message sounded over the speakers on the shuttle.<p>

"This is Kodiak Two, we've retrieved the body of the shooter and are following you back to base. Fly safe Kodiak One."

Garrus, now better with human facial expressions, made out the angry and curious looks that grew on Miranda and Jacob's faces respectively. He didn't ponder them for long. As if coming back from the dead, Shepard violently coughed up a generous amount of blood that had now stained Garrus's other hand as he tried to hold him steady for the medics.

"Come on Shepard, hang in there." He said quietly, as if he was worried his concern would make everyone else uneasy.

A fully armed team of surgeons, and Mordin upon his insistence, carried Shepard off into the emergency room like a pack of ravenous ants. Like a dog who just watched her master disappear behind a closed door, Miranda waited outside the entrance to the ER with an almost stupefied, lost expression. Garrus couldn't just leave her there.

"Waiting out here won't make him come out of there faster."

"How do you know he's coming out at all?" Miranda asked without turning to him.

"You know Shepard's taken worse hits than this." Garrus said this, but he doubted it himself.

Miranda saw right through him.

"The only time he got anywhere close to being this hurt was when he got spaced on the original Normandy. And that took two years and billions of credits to bring him back. Face it Garrus, Shepard has always been too good to let this happen to himself. Even when he went off alone to find Dr. Kenson, he returned with only minor injuries. Honestly Garrus, I think we've just been a burden to him."

Garrus almost unconsciously raised his hand to his own scar, courtesy of Tarak and his gunship. He stopped himself though. Doing so would only cement Miranda's grief induced doubt.

"We aren't a burden to him Miranda."

"Really? Open your eyes Garrus! Since the Normandy was stolen Shepard has been going off by himself, deliberately leaving us in the dark! But still, when he went after Tyrone, he came back unharmed. Who's to say he didn't have everything under control at that cottage? Maybe the only reason he's in there is because of me. He told me to stay out of it, that he was he didn't want me, or any of you involved. I was too damn stubborn to listen, and now he's dying." Miranda was on the verge of tears.

Garrus was completely unprepared for this. Despite Shepard insisting that Miranda had become more approachable, Garrus admitted that he didn't really take the initiative to get closer to her. Now he hated himself for it. Shepard was in critical condition, and Garrus couldn't even comfort his girlfriend in her time of grief.

_But__I'll__be__damned__if__I__don't__try._

"Dammit Miranda, stop making things worse than they already are! Your self loathing isn't going to help anything or anybody. Shepard has been acting impulsive lately, and he's endangering himself so that we don't."

"I don't care Garrus! I can't let him put himself through this. It's seems more than just trying to figure out who took the Normandy. It's like he's torturing himself, like he's hiding something. I'm ashamed to say it, but I don't think I can trust him."

"You can always trust Shepard Miranda. I realize that he has been out of character recently, but he deserves our trust. The fact that the three of us were tailing him like that is just insulting. If we want him to be straight up with us, we need to be straight up with him."

Miranda looked at him expectantly. He wasn't sure if he had gotten through to her, but he had her undivided attention for the moment. He felt the old C-Sec investigator skills coming back to him. Though, the fact he was going to be applying those skills to Shepard made it bitter sweet.

"We are clearly in the dark here. All I know for certain is that Shepard knows these people. You heard him yell Marcus, right? That Tyrone guy gave Shepard two names. Marcus was one, so the only lead left is this Rico Contreras."

"But we don't know where to find him."

"Let's check the body of Marcus, then have a chat with Tyrone." Garrus said a little darkly.

Most of the doctors who were charged with healing Shepard found themselves performing rather menial tasks. Mordin has come close to making them little more than clutter in the room. It it weren't for the occasional request for a specific tool, the doctors remained just for the awe of the Salarian's work. What took a team of four surgeons to do effectively, Mordin did on his Salarian pondered Shepard's condition silently in his mind. The bullet entered through the upper back, and exited a little lower. The bullet was of higher caliber than the standard Mantis sniper rifle, and pierced his lung. Shepard is more accustomed to wearing heavy armor, so his body is more shocked from taking the hit in only light armor. The lung will need special treatment to be able to expand and contract. After clearing the shrapnel and disinfecting the wound, Mordin turned to one of the surgeons.

"You, doctor, go to my room and bring back a case with an oval device inside it the case is black next to green one remember black not green, please hurry." Mordin said quickly.

The doctor turned assistant did as he was told retrieved the black case. Inside it was a device that none of them recognized. Mordin took it and placed on Shepard's exposed lung, over the hole. With the press of a few buttons, the device pretty much clamped onto the lung and several small metal arms extended from the device and latched onto the front and back of the organ. Mordin expertly closed the incision and gave Shepard an adrenaline shot. Shepard's heart began to beat increasingly faster, and Mordin typed a command into his omni tool to activate the device on his lung. Now Shepard could breathe easily. The success of the operation isn't what surprised Mordin, Shepard waking barely five minutes after the operation did.

"Shepard calm down you can't," The Salarian's words fell on deaf ears.

Shepard was breathing deeply and erratically. He wasn't where he remembered being. Old senses, old tendencies told him to grab whatever could be used as a weapon. He saw five people in the room. Four stood too far away to take down immediately, the fifth was close enough for him to grab. No make shift weapons were immediately available, so that left him with his hands. He couldn't take the time to strangle the target because that would expose him to the other four. A faster, lethal grab and crush to the windpipe was more logical. Shepard got really angry. Why hadn't he moved yet? Why was he just laying there when targets needed to be eliminated? He needed to be fast, ruthless, efficient, and deadly, but he couldn't move because a surprisingly strong hand was pressing down on his chest. Shepard finally realized that he was looking at Mordin. Then it all came back to him. The cottage, Marcus, Miranda, the gunshot. Somehow ignoring the fact that he was formulating a plan to kill Mordin a second ago, Shepard painful rose up against the doctors hand.

"Where is Miranda?" He asked Mordin intently.

Miranda was down in the morgue with Garrus after their discussion outside the emergency room. The doctor in charge of the autopsy had left long ago. There was no mystery as to how Marcus died. Thane and Samara also came. Marcus hadn't been dead long enough to create an overpowering stench, but the sight of his dead body was anything but clean. A sizable bullet hole was located on the left side of his head, with an even bigger exit wound on the right. His eyes remained open, eyes that could pick out a needle from a hay stack when they were alive, eyes that had seen things that would have made his life unlivable were it not for Shepard's companionship. Miranda noticed Thane had his hands clasped together and his head bowed, meaning that he was praying. Miranda wanted to scold him. How could he be saying a prayer for this bastard? She herself felt anger building up inside her. She hadn't felt anger like this since encountering the Eclipse mercenaries looking for Oriana on Illium, or when Captain Enayla shot and killed Niket. She loved her sister, and hated her father and his mercenaries for wanting to take her away. Despite her harsh words, she loved Niket for his help, and hated Captain Enayla for killing him. She loved Shepard like no one else before, he had given her a new outlook on life. And now, he was acting like an asshole because some people she couldn't put a name to, and lying in the emergency room because of Marcus specifically. If Marcus were alive, she would put a bullet through his head all over again. She clenched her fists and bit her lip, feeling her brow furrowing in anger. Someone had their hand on her arm.

"Calm down Miranda." Samara said in her calm, tranquil voice.

Miranda didn't reply to her verbally, instead looking at Samara and showing her the anger that was losing control inside her.

"Hating this man won't help Shepard get better, and won't do you any good if you intend to help him."

"I want to hate him. I want to hate all the people who are putting Shepard through this. Shepard already had enough on his plate with this trial, he doesn't need the burden of reclaiming the Normandy and saving the rest of the crew."

"Miranda, Shepard would never think of us or the crew as a burden. He is totally devoted to his team and friends."

"Samara, have you noticed the way he has been acting lately? He is so cold and distant. He isn't treating this like a normal mission, he is being more reckless, and, well just different, like he has changed."

"Doing what is necessary can make people act differently Miranda, if you have doubts about that, then you won't accomplish anything."

Miranda could tell that the Justicar was speaking from experience. Samara has killed people for hundreds of years for crimes that she never took the chance understand. Her code was unwavering, as was her devotion. If she always stopped due to what-ifs or doubts, she wouldn't have the clarity in her role as a Justicar. Samara left Miranda with that thought and walked out the door. Her words just left Miranda more conflicted than ever.

"Miranda come here." Garrus said standing next Marcus's corpse.

Miranda went next to him, and Thane, finishing his prayer, stood on the other side of the table, silent.

"He had an omni tool module in his pocket. I think it is his, because his arm mount is missing the module."

Miranda took it and linked the module to her own. She had access to all the info on it. Things like fake accounts, weapon shipments, property deeds, and a lot of names were stored in the module.

"What can you make of that rifle Thane?" Garrus asked the drell, pointing to the rifle that had put Shepard in the emergency room, and Marcus in the morgue.

Thane picked it up and held it as if he were ready to fire it. Thane looked like he admired the weapon.

"It's slightly smaller than a Mantis or Viper, but has numerous features. The stock, grip, and receiver resemble an assault rifle more than the traditional sniper. He could have fired this at shorter ranges, maybe even used it like a heavy assault rifle in light skirmishes. The scope is noticeably large, at least when compared to the entire weapon. Night vision, infrared, all built into it. The weapon base is a little dated, compared to newer models. It seems the clip has been heavily modified to use a variety of ammo types. Built in bi pod, reinforced frame, mass accelerator **and**thermal clip system. Hmm, _With__my__eye,__I__see__what__you__would__do.__With__my__finger,__I__decide__what__I__will__allow__you__to__do._" He read that off of the bottom of the gun.

"All in all, definitely not legal, and expensive even on the black market. Also more effective than any sniper we have, except maybe Shepard's Incisor or Legion's Widow." Thane finished, laying the Anaconda back on the table.

"So our friend here had deep pockets." Garrus said thoughtfully.

Miranda scrolled through some investments that were listed in the omni tool.

"According to this, Marcus had a share in fifteen property lots, as well as owning his own star ship that made deliveries to human colonies like Eden Prime. However, he hasn't been receiving payments from any of these since nine years ago."

"That means he probably pissed off somebody big time, and lost the benefits." Garrus concluded.

"No, he didn't." Shepard said, surprising all three of them.

Mordin came in behind looking more flustered than ever.

"Shepard please you must not be not be walking around right now your artificial lung still hasn't been fully integrated and you,"

"I'm fine Mordin!" Shepard said yanking his arm away.

The persistent doctor conceded to scanning him behind his back. Shepard ignored him for the moment and stepped towards the autopsy table. Marcus hadn't changed at all in appearance. Same skinny build, somewhat tall, barely noticeable freckles, very short ginger hair. Shepard lifted Marcus's right hand and looked at the palm. Several deep cuts ran across it. Shepard could still just make out the Third Street Reds tattoo beneath the gore.

"Please Shepard, do as Mordin asks." Miranda pleaded.

Shepard didn't turn to her, still holding Marcus's hand.

"Shepard?" Miranda said.

"I told you to let me handle this." Shepard said too quietly for her to hear.

"What?"

Shepard began breathing heavily, like he was exasperated.

"Shepard, please go with Mordin." Miranda said grabbing his arm.

"I told you to fucking let me handle this!" Shepard roared in her face.

"I had everything under control, and because of your stubbornness I have a hole in my chest, and Marcus is dead!" He continued.

Thane, Mordin, Garrus, and especially Miranda remained silent the entire time.

"He didn't need to die, he helped me and now he is dead." Shepard continued more quietly but with the same spite.

"I want you, all of you to stay away. I don't need your help, I don't want your help!" He finished, still staring at Miranda.

Shepard walked off and left his four squad mates, his four friends, in the place of death. Thane stood completely still, gauging the others for any emotions. Mordin fidgeted, but was quieter than the others had ever seen him. Miranda stared at the floor, fists clenched in anger and sorrow both. She was crying, and the fact that she was trying to hide it made it all the more heartbreaking. Garrus looked at all three of them, Miranda in particular, and felt something snap. He quickly walked out after Shepard. Miranda made a move to stop him, but Thane held her back.

"Whatever happens next needs to happen." His words didn't reassure her.

Mordin, still quiet, took a mental note of the appropriate medical supplies he believed he would need momentarily.

Garrus stomped after Shepard. The morgue was at the end of a narrow hallway, so Shepard couldn't have turned anywhere. Garrus wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. All he knew was that Shepard was out of line back there, and Miranda. He had been suspicious of Miranda when Shepard told him who she had been working for. After all the time they had spent together, Garrus now trusted her as well as anyone of the original Normandy. He also noticed how she had become romantically involved with Shepard. Garrus knew Shepard would normally never intentionally hurt her, or any of them for that matter. But things were anything but normal right now. Miranda's face, the hurt, made him angry at Shepard. The only time he had ever been angry with Shepard was when he stopped him from injuring Harkness, or when he intervened in his assassination attempt on Sidonis. Even then, it was for his own good. Now Shepard seemed like he was intentionally hurting those closest to him. The people who stole the Normandy, Tyrone, Marcus, they have some history with him that he doesn't want anyone to know.

"Sorry Shepard, but like it or not, this now concerns more people than just you." Garrus mumbled to himself.

He saw Shepard up ahead, standing in the meeting room. He saw the Admiral leaving around the corner, so Shepard probably just told Hackett something that he neglected to tell anyone else. That just added fuel to the fire. With as much boldness as he could muster, and still no real game plan, Garrus confronted Shepard.

"What the hell was that back there?"

"I needed to get my point across." Shepard replied much too calmly for Garrus's taste.

"Needed to get your point across? Miranda has been a wreck since you got shot, and now she's crying because you snapped at her for no good reason! What point, exactly, are you trying to get across? Because I'm at a loss myself."

"I told her not to get involved, and she didn't listen. I had to put her in her place."

"Put her in her place? What the hell is wrong with you Shepard?"

"Me? What about you, you were there with Miranda and Jacob. Since when are you Miranda's lackey?"

"Since when are you a hopeless ass? I was initially suspicious of her, but she has more than earned my trust. I also see what she is to you, a01nd I know you wouldn't act this way to her, or any of your friends without reason." Garrus sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Shepard.

"Without reason? One of my oldest friends is lying in that morgue with his head barely in one piece because of her! Because of you and her and Jacob!" Shepard said, taking a step towards Garrus.

"Your friend? Friends don't shoot each other!" Garrus said, taking a step towards Shepard.

"Friends don't disobey their friend's orders, when all he is doing is trying to protect them."

"From what, from whom? Why are you not letting us help you? The Normandy and the rest of the crew are just as important to us as they are to you."

"I not saying they aren't, but I can't," Shepard began.

"Can't what? Don't give me that nonsense that you are trying to protect us, you let Liara and I join you in your last fight with Saren. Miranda and I helped you destroy the human reaper at the collector base. You're hiding something. If you wanted to protect us, you would leave everybody behind on the ship, but then where would you be? The only time you ever completed a mission alone, you ended up destroying a mass relay." Garrus immediately regretted his last sentence.

Shepard's fist clenched tightly, and his nose twitched slightly. Garrus hated himself for what he said, and hated himself even more when Shepard held himself back, showing his amazing discipline and not impulsively violent nature. It was this mentality that had made Shepard a better soldier and leader than he ever could be.

"Look, Shepard, I'm sorry. I didn't think about what I was saying." Garrus said sincerely.

"You didn't think, as usual. Since I picked you up on the Citadel, I had to do all the thinking for you, with Doctor Michel, with Dr. Saleon. You weren't thinking when Miranda had you accompany her to sneak around behind my back. Now, you unthinkingly believe that I need you, any of you. And worst of all, without thinking, you question my motives. Don't assume that you know my intentions, or my responsibilities. I was given the task of tracking down Saren, your precious investigation sped things up. I was brought back from the dead to stop the collectors, saving you from the gangs of Omega was somewhat unintentional. Though it was good for you wasn't it? If I hadn't picked you up, I wouldn't have been able to put myself at risk to help you with Sidonis. You would have been dead, with the rest of the men you got killed because, once again, you were not thinking!" Shepard finished, and barely had time to take a breath before Garrus's fist cracked against his jaw.

The force of the blow spun Shepard around. Garrus was as shocked at the fact that he had punched Shepard as he was that he was ready to do it again.

"How long have you wanted to do that Garrus?" Shepard asked rubbing his jaw.

"For about five minutes." Garrus replied, breathless with emotion.

"Huh, something tells me that you aren't finished yet."

Grunt had been on his way to the morgue to see the body of Marcus. Anyone who could injure his battle master as badly as he did interested him. He was surprised to find Shepard and Garrus in the hallway leading to the morgue, especially when Garrus punched Shepard. Upon seeing that, two things registered in his mind. One, he needed to aid his battle master. Two, one hell of a fight was about to ensue. He eagerly hoped for the latter as he took a place near the wall, giving the two fighters room.

"Looks like we have an audience. You know what this reminds me of Garrus? That time you told me about soldiers on a turian ship and how they settle their differences." Shepard said, raising his fists.

Garrus was way ahead of him, because he threw a straight punch for Shepard's face. Shepard parried it with his forearm and threw a left hook into Garrus's mandible. He responded by going into a flurry of three quick jabs before faking a right hook, instead striking Shepard in the abdomen. Cringing but not moving back, Shepard brought his fist down in an overhand right, hitting the crown of Garrus's head. Garrus attempted a wild haymaker, but Shepard swayed out of the way and kicked Garrus in the stomach, pushing him back. Both of them circled each other, gauging the other's weaknesses and strengths. Garrus had height and reach, and Shepard was a little stronger and faster. Actual skill would be determined throughout the fight.

"Don't do me any favors. You don't need to restrain yourself." Garrus said, despite his bruised stomach.

_Oh__yes__I__do__Garrus._ Shepard thought dangerously, and sadly, to himself.

"I didn't want to fight Garrus. I don't want to hurt you."

"Just come and try!"

Shepard charged Garrus with his fist off to the side, looking like he intended to lean in with a punch. Anticipating this, Garrus raised his arms in defense just before Shepard reached him. However, Shepard never followed through with his punch. Instead, using his momentum to carry him, he leapt off the ground and kicked Garrus's exposed mid-section with both of his feet. The attack pushed Garrus to the ground.

The amount of people watching the fight grew. Now Grunt was joined by Thane, Jacob, Tali, Jack and Miranda. Tali attempted to intervene with the fight, but Grunt blocked her path.

"What are you doing? This needs to stop."

"This is a good fight quarian, you have no right to interrupt it."

"Are you insane? We need to work together right now, not trying to kill each other!"

"Shepard and Garrus both believe they are right. Simply talking it out will take to long, and likely not solve anything. This, no matter who wins, the loser will submit."

"Grunt is right Tali. Somewhat." Thane added.

Tali supposed that she was in no position to argue with Grunt's barbaric wisdom, especially if Thane agreed with it. Everyone went back to watching the fight, with varied opinions.

"Just stop Garrus. This is pointless." Shepard said in a loose battle stance.

"I don't think so. You may not have wanted to fight, but you were asking for that punch because of the way you were taking about my squad. The sad thing is, I think something similar to what happened to me happened to you."

"Don't go there Garrus, I'm warning you."

"Why not? You obviously know these people. I think you were screwed over, and that's why you ran away to the Alliance!"

Shepard rushed Garrus more aggressively, much more aggressively. However, he seemed distracted and unfocused, like he was blinded by his rage. Despite the more vigorous attacks, Garrus parried them easier than before. Garrus managed to blindside Shepard with an uppercut, staggering him.

"You're bitter because of what these people did to you years ago, and now you're on some selfish act of vengeance at the expense of us all!" Garrus shouted down Shepard.

Roaring in anger, Shepard charged Garrus like a rabid animal. This left him open for a powerful hook, which sent him into a clump on the ground. Garrus just stared down at Shepard. Here was the man he looked up to, who he thought of a teacher as much a friend. They shared good times and bad, and watched each other's backs while fighting. Now, Shepard was a bloody heap on the floor, beaten down by his best friend for the sake of those he cared about the most. Garrus turned to the assembled audience before him. Grunt and Jack looked mildly surprised at the outcome of the fight. Thane was mostly unreadable. Tali, he could tell, wasn't going to be happy about whoever won. Jacob had left long ago to find Mordin, clearly disgusted about what was happening. Finally, Miranda. She locked eyes with him. Garrus knew that she was grateful for what he was trying to do, but at the same time, like him, unhappy about it in the end. Garrus stopped looking at her when he was lifted into the air, someone having wrapped their arms around him from behind. Then he was slammed into the ground. Very hard.

He got up as quickly as he could, but Shepard grabbed him by the back of his scaly neck, bent him backwards, and dealt Garrus a downward punch to the chin. Garrus was on the ground again, only this time he saw Shepard. Shepard was standing over him, looking down with cold, calculating, predatory eyes. What really drew Garrus's attention was the scar that appeared, beginning from the front of Shepard's right ear and coming about a third of the way across his cheek. It was glowing like his other scars. Garrus desperately tried to sweep Shepard's legs out from under him, but he simply lifted his legs out of the way with uncanny speed. Garrus used the momentum from the sweep to put himself into a roll that got him to his feet. He got into a fighting stance, and Shepard just let his arms relax to his sides. Garrus attacked with a straight, followed by two jabs and then an uppercut. At least, that was his plan. Shepard caught his hand after the first strike and pulled Garrus to the side, kicking him in the ribs as Garrus was thrown past him. Garrus had to put his hand out to stop his collision with the wall. He turned in time to see Shepard flying through the air towards him, before dropping down on his head with an elbow strike.

Garrus was on his knees, barely conscious. He knew Shepard was a dangerous person, but actual fighting him was so different. At first, they were even, with Garrus barely managing to get the upper hand. What happened now? Garrus couldn't even touch Shepard, and Shepard was fighting more efficiently, like he was trying to kill him, like he wasn't holding back anymore. The though scared him. Shepard scared him.

_I__guess__I__should__be__careful__of__what__I__wish__for._ Garrus thought as he got up wearily.

Warm blood trickled down his head, gushing out of the cut made from Shepard's elbow. He waited, staring at Shepard. Shepard waited, cold and efficient like a robot. Garrus wasn't sure if he could keep going like this, but damned if he was going to let Shepard win like this. He waited. Shepard ran at him, leaping at him with a super man punch. With all the strength he had left, Garrus brought up his long leg and kicked Shepard in his chest. Shepard flopped onto the ground, and Garrus was on his knees again. Garrus had unintentionally kicked Shepard right over his injured lung, sending him into a wheezing fit. Then he got up. Garrus, now with helpless fear, tried in vain to hold Shepard away. But Shepard was like a man possessed. He grabbed Garrus's arm and wrenched it almost to the breaking point. He then pressed his fingers deep into the flesh beneath Garrus's mandibles. Searing pain ripped through Garrus nervous system. He couldn't help it, he screamed in pain. As if his scream had awakened something in Shepard, he released his grip on both his face and arm. Shepard looked absolutely mortified at what he had done. Then he collapsed onto the ground because he couldn't breath.

Fortunately, Mordin had returned with Jacob and rushed to Shepard's aid. Quickly working on his omni tool, Mordin got Shepard's artificial lung working again. He breathed deeply, but remained on the floor. Mordin moved to Garrus to inspect his wounds, but he just waved him off.

"How did you know to do that?" Garrus asked out of breath.

"Do what?" Replied Shepard.

"Where you dug your fingers into my face. Not many people know to do that, unless they were trained to know it." Garrus almost sounded like he was accusing Shepard of something.

"You learn things." That was the only answer Shepard gave as he got up and walked past the crowd of spectators, paying none of them any attention.

Garrus, despite the brutal fight, remembered his loyalty to Shepard.

"This isn't the end Shepard. We're not finished yet."

Shepard stopped in his tracks and turned to face him.

"No, were not. Until we get the Normandy back, we are not done."

Garrus was too beat up to be happy, but he did recognize his small victory. It was not over until **we** retrieve the Normandy now.

"And Garrus," Shepard said to him.

Garrus really wanted to give into sleep right now, but he had to hear this. They all had to hear this. It would put their situation, Shepard's situation into perspective for all of them.

"I'll tell you why I'm not like you. I was never betrayed by anybody. I betrayed them."

* * *

><p><em>So there you go. This is shorter than the last chapter, but important all the same. btw, if this story is updated again recently, it is because I will be editing older chapters. Many thanks to darkego for pointing out Shepard's age, as that is what I'll be reworking into the older chapters.<br>_


	8. Scavenging Vulture

_Once again I did not come through for you on getting this chapter ready quicker, sorry. This will introduce the next Reds member, and Shepard is slowly beginning to let his squad get more involved. How close will he let them get? How close will they dare to get? I don't think that far ahead, so for now your guess is as good as mine. As always read, review, and enjoy._

* * *

><p>Garrus washed the blood from his face while looking in the mirror. His trusty visor was on the counter next to him, intact. He found it amazing that it had not been destroyed during his career as a soldier in the Turian army, as a C-Sec investigator, and especially as a member of Shepard's squad. Even more so than that when considering his near death experience with Tarak and his gunship. He dried his hands and picked up the headgear, cradling it in his hands like a precious heirloom. He knew this visor entirely. The feel of the material, the curve of the chassis, the slight static he felt when getting closer to the projectors. He could pick it out of a box if others just like it. That's why his clawed finger, even underneath the glove of his armor, he found a dent and a slight bend in the frame. He fingered it like someone who had that human disease, OCD if he understood it correctly. The visor was by no means protective headgear, but one couldn't simply bend it without really trying. The dent also indicated that something had hit it hard. He didn't need to have been a detective to figure out what happened. The damage had been done during his brawl with Shepard, probably when Shepard fought like a hit man. He looked back to the mirror to see his scarred and slightly beaten face. Since his people had scaly skin, things like bruises and small cuts were not as noticeable aesthetically as they were on humans and asari. He still felt it though, beneath the plates, the sore skin between his mandibles.<p>

_How did he know to do that?_

For a Turian, applying pressure to the flesh between the mandibles and mouth was like being kicked in the testicles, twice. Not many people knew that, fewer still wold actually do it in a fight because it was hardly a subtle move. Even still, Shepard had done it. He didn't even do it as an attack, he did it when Garrus was at his mercy. He didn't do it just to make Garrus step back, or to stop attacking. he did it just to cause pain. He fitted the visor back onto his head and looked into the mirror again. How long was that fight encroaching upon them, he wondered. Since Shepard started holding him back from really hurting people like Dr. Saleon and Harkins? When Shepard stopped him from murdering Sidonis? No, it wasn't any of those times. He had seen what Shepard tried to teach him; patience, understanding, humility, forgiveness. The tension had been building since coming to Earth, when the Normandy was stolen, because of his reckless behavior in confronting Tyrone, his secrecy and anger over the death of Marcus, his treatment of Miranda. He smirked at himself.

"Only Shepard could get a former member of a xenophobic organization and me to be friends. And only could be so pigheaded to make me fight him for her."

"How are you feeling Garrus?" Tali asked him from the doorway.

"You've seen Shepard fight. Even without a gun, it isn't fun to be on the receiving end." He made an attempt to lighten the mood.

Tali crossed her arms over her breasts, indicating that she was in no mood for foolishness.

"I really don't see what is so funny about all this."

"Obviously, you weren't hit." Garrus foolishly tried to make it less serious.

"Why can't you ever take anything seriously Garrus? You just got into a fist fight with Shepard!" She said raising her voice.

"And got my ass handed to me too." He made once last, ultimately futile attempt at a joke.

Tali uncrossed her arms and stepped towards Garrus until he could see her pissed off eyes beaming at him like tiny flashlights inside her helmet. If he didn't know her better, he would have thought Tali was ready to hit him.

"Why Garrus? Why won't you just take this seriously?"

"Because I care about him too much to want to take that fight seriously. Because I believe in him too much to take it personally. Because I owe him too much, because he has stood by me through the hardest times of my life for me to be justified in harboring any anger against him for wanting to be secretive and withhold things for us."

Tali physical calmed down a little, or at least felt bad for being angry with him initially.

"So why did you fight him then?"

Garrus frowned slightly and looked away from here, unable to meet her gaze. Tali may not have been a little girl, but the protectiveness that he and Shepard shared for her hadn't dwindled at all in the years they were separated. He wasn't sure if he would go so far as to say that he and the Commander were like older brothers, more like friends who were inclined to get in each others business. It was fitting because they were closest to each other more than any other crew member, Miranda and Shepard's relationship not being taken into account of course. That is why he found it so hard to tell her what his feelings were like right now.

"Shepard flipped out on Miranda, well all of us, but especially Miranda down in the morgue. Something about that dead guy, Marcus. Shepard was really beaten up about it, and not just because he was irritable from having being shot. He, cared for Marcus. He said that Marcus had cooperated with him, but Miranda, Jacob, and my arrival made him go ballistic and kill himself. I, I couldn't let him just walk away from Miranda like the way he did."

"So you fought him for her?"

"Not just her, he crossed the line somewhere, but I suppose I did to. The point is, I accomplished what I set out to do."

"What **did **you set out to do?"

"One, show Shepard that we weren't going to tolerate his crap anymore. Two, learn more about his feelings on this situation, because now I now it is very personal."

"It sounds like there is a three in there."

"Aw yes, three. Show Shepard that no matter how thick headed he may be, no matter how much respect we may have for him, he isn't going to be doing this alone."

_But I dread the reason **why **he insists upon doing it alone._

* * *

><p>Shepard threw the bloody rag into the laundry hamper, the once white material now dark red. He fingered his busted upper lip and felt the chipped tooth just beneath the skin. He then placed his hand on his chest, and could feel the mechanical parts moving beneath to help his lung work. It had been a long time since he had been in a fist real fight. That Turian harassing the Asari women was hardly an opponent. Garrus wasn't exaggerating when he said he was one of the top ranked fighters on his old cruiser. He showed considerable skill until, until...<p>

"Until I became that ruthless bastard again." He said to himself aloud, letting it sink in.

Just like Alexander taught him to be, like Shepard taught himself to be, like how he taught he others to be. He had snapped. Snapped on Miranda for not understanding how deeply this goes, snapped even worse on Garrus for being so disrespectful... and at the same time respectful. Garrus had thought that Shepard had been acting this way out of spite for these people, for some betrayal that he had suffered like him before. It never even occurred to Garrus that maybe Shepard was to blame. Since he was eight he was a lapdog for the Reds, the five years with Marcus and Tyrone, and the rest of them making want to join the Alliance.

_Why did I join the Alliance? Did I think at the time that it would make up for everything I'd done? Was I fooling myself into thinking that it would bring me peace, or was I just running away from the Reds, from my men, from my life?_

The door slid open and Miranda strolled in, graceful as always. She didn't look pleased, but not angry neither. He didn't turn to her, instead meeting her gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

"You look like shit." She stated in a not really joking, not really insulting tone.

"From what I've been told, I have been treating people like shit as well."

"No you haven't. You've just been alienating the people closest to you and putting your life at risk senselessly, and the only time we learned something from you is when you beat down your best friend."

"Sarcasm is beneath you Miranda." He said with a joyless smirk.

"And everything you have done lately is unlike you John. I don't know why you are being so damn stubborn and reckless when everyone is involved."

She's baring her teeth now.

"I was scared. Scared and worried."

"Of what?"

"Of you, of all of you seeing me like this."

Miranda came in and turned him to her, forcing him to look right at her. She didn't seem angry, more like a fire lit behind her eyes that told him that she was going to have her say and that he was going to listen.

"I don't know what the hell you think you are John, but I'm going to tell you the truth right now. You've got a crew full of psychotic convicts, assassins, and killing machines. We all adore you, you don't need to be perfect. You don't need to be perfect, and yet you have done so much good for people that may or may not have deserved it. You are not perfect, but you are the furthest thing from a bad man that I have ever seen."

Shepard was shaking, because he was holding back tears. He did run away. He did run away from the Reds, from his men, from his life. He ran away to a new life, to his friends like Garrus, to this woman. He hugged her, out emotional stress he hugged her close. He almost lost control of his tears when she hugged him back.

"I'm sorry Miranda. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm sorry for leaving you and everyone else in the dark. I'm sorry that we're here, right now." His voice was a mere whisper, but Miranda heard it clearly through her brunette hair.

"I can't do this alone, not this. I, I, I need your help."

She hugged him even harder, and he knew her answer.

* * *

><p>Tyrone paced back and forth in his cell. He still wore the suit that he had been wearing at his night club when Shepard barging in. He licked his tongue in the space where two of his teeth used to be. The vacant spot made him wince with pain at the memory of Shepard tearing out his teeth. He was even more angry than pained. The informant never told him that Shepard would actually come after him, in his own damn club! He felt left out of the loop. When the informant, damn him and his secrecy, told him that his partners had Shepard's ship, he was just told to start smuggling weapons to an anonymous account.<p>

"Just do your part he said! Don't worry about Shepard he said! You'll get payed enough to be set for life he said! Fucking shit head." Tyrone said angrily to himself.

His attention was caught by the light of his cell door, indicating that it was opening. Shepard walked in and the door closed behind him.

"What, you need some more teeth?" Tyrone said angrily.

"So long as you cooperate, no."

"Cooperate? I've already told you everything I know so why you don't you fuck off and go save the universe or something!"

"No Tyrone. You haven't told me everything you know, I know you to well for that. So tell me, where is Rico?"

"What makes you think I now where he is?"

"Because that is what you were good at for all those years. You knew everyone and what they were doing."

"I'm not going to tell you anything John. I might as well be slitting my own throat." He gestured to his neck for emphasis.

"Listen Tyrone. Officially, I'm not a part of the Alliance anymore. That means my coming into your club could have been just an angry mercenary, you know, stuff that is common around here. So the Alliance has really got nothing on you because you only spoke to me. This is the deal. You tell me where Rico is, I get what I need from him, and you walk away to whatever cesspool you fancy."

"You're really making a deal with the devil John."

"No I'm not. Trust me Tyrone, people like you are a dime a dozen. Greedy, selfish, rats."

"Alright them. Rico is still with the Reds too, he operates out in that huge scrapyard deep in Reds territory. He sells refurbished tech, and smuggles in some good stuff. He also has a nice little drug ring on the side. He's probably going to have some of the gang members for security and extortion. He hasn't changed much since over the years."

"And neither have you." Shepard said before walking out of the cell, leaving Tyrone alone again.

"I bet you think you have though, you prick." Tyrone said to himself.

Tyrone pressed to a spot on his head behind his ear, activating the communicator implanted there. It was the best investment he ever made, he thought. With a few beeps, a voice spoke into his ear from far away.

"What do you want Tyrone?" The voice said in a tired, annoyed tone.

"Huh, it's nice to hear from you to Rico."

"Well I'm in the middle of getting this mass accelerator to fire projectiles at a rate of, why am I telling you this?" Rico said condescendingly.

"Just stop playing with your toys and listen to me, an old friend is stopping by." Tyrone smiled, toothless in the front.

* * *

><p>Shepard, Miranda, Jack, Zaeed, and Garrus sat in relative silence amidst the hum of the shuttle engines. They had borrowed a non military craft big enough to seat all five of them. It was a civilian style craft, so they wouldn't draw too much attention. Zaeed flew, or at least did what he considered piloting, Garrus sat next to him in the passenger seat, Shepard and Miranda were behind them in the middle, and Jack sat alone with her legs stretched across the entire backseat. She had the hood of her jacket over her head, and seemed to be sleeping. Shepard was surprised that she had agreed to wear it in the place, though he wasn't complaining of her few acts of cooperation. They had gone over the game-plan before heading out. Land in an area not to close to the scrapyard, walk the rest of the way, find a way to meet Rico, preferably without starting a riot. He didn't have much confidence for the last part of the plan.<p>

"How you two feeling? I heard you both beat each other half way to death!" Zaeed said, taking his eyes away from the window for a full two seconds, scaring the crap out of the passengers.

"Zaeed..." Miranda said to the mercenary.

"What? I'm just disappointed that I didn't get to see the fight. I wasn't sure you boys knew how to fight without a weapon."

"Oh, he knows how to fight without a weapon." Garrus said without turning to Shepard or Zaeed.

Shepard knew Garrus was referring to the second half of the fight, when Shepard had completely turned the tables on him.

"Look Garrus, I'm,"

"I know, I am to Shepard." Garrus said finally turning around.

"Shit, you both sound like pussies." Jack said from the back seat. Her lips were curled into a smirk.

Zaeed laughed from the front seat. Garrus rolled his eyes and turned away and Shepard chuckled lightly. Miranda giggled surprisingly.

"Must you ruin such touching moments between friends Jack?" Miranda joked with her.

"Shepard was the second toughest person on the Normandy, after me of course. He's going soft and going down the list. Wouldn't you rather have a tiger in bed instead of a kitten cheerleader?"

"Jack!" Miranda said blushing, something no one had ever seen her do.

Zaeed laughed even harder, so hard in fact that he laughed for everybody. Garrus smiled and merely looked out the window. Jack, satisfied with herself, turned away from them, presumably to go back to sleep. Shepard couldn't help but smile at Miranda's discomfort. Her vulnerable, faluable discomfort. Despite the fact that the five of them were on their way to confront another ghost of his past, he found himself oddly content in this cramped little shuttle.

"Oi Shepard, you never did tell us who this Rico asshole is." Zaeed said.

His happy feeling went away immediately.

"He is an old, 'friend' of mine. He's sneaky and conniving, and picks on the weak. He was always a good tinkerer though, building random things and salvaging tech. The drugs, well like I said he preys on the weak, strung out addicts included."

"He sounds like some bully I knew back in school. Well, he was the bully until I got there." Zaeed said from the front.

"Don't underestimate him. He's a capable fighter, and he'll likely have some guards with him." Shepard reminded him.

"Whatever, anyways I'll land here so we can hump it to the scrap yard."

The shuttle landed and before he could even get out Shepard saw people eying it greedily. This part of the under city had a lot of gang activity, particularly from the Reds. Shuttle thefts and hijackings were most common in this district, and it was no secret that the miles long scrapyard had pockets of gangsters littered about it like so much trash. Walking though the streets revealed peddlers, homeless, maybe a few cops who wanted to be anywhere else but there, and a number of aliens. All of them were surprised to see so many Turians, Asari, and a few Salarians walking the streets, some even manning stalls to sell everything from food to clothes. Jack managed to sum up the entire scene in four words.

"What a shit hole."

"Aye, it's almost worthy of Omega." Zaeed added.

"Yeah, almost. Needs a few more mercenaries though." Garrus said as well.

Shepard saw a group of Reds members harassing a stall owner, this one an Asari. He needed to find Rico, helping someone out in process was a plus. Also, he got to test the metal of these newer Reds. He walked over to them without the others. There were three of them.

"Excuse me folks, but what seems to be the problem here?"

The tallest of the three of them turned to Shepard, his face painted with stupid pride and confidence.

"Nothing you need to involve yourself in, we just needed to show this squid head that we don't appreciate her taking business away from humans."

"Please, I'm just trying to make enough money to get offworld." The Asari said with fear.

"Shut up alien!" One of the other men said as he smashed her wares off of the stall counter.

"Come on now, you don't really need to be picking on people who are just trying to get by on a different world." Shepard, trying to work his diplomatic magic.

"People? These freaks aren't people. They're just blue skinned, squid headed freaks who don't bleed red. And we Reds are making sure Earth stays red."

Shepard scoffed, annoying the gangster.

"You Reds? Your just a bunch of punks who are xenophobic. The Reds are just a pathetic shell of it's former self."

"You just crossed the line asshole." The gangster said as the other two men circled around him.

The fight, if it could be called such, encompassed the tallest man attempting to punch Shepard, who merely ducked under it to punch him in the gut before dropping an elbow on the back of his head. One down. The other gangster behind him tried to tackle him, but Shepard turned and raised his knee, cracking the man's skull. Two down. The last man tried to punch him once, twice, thrice, and then got his arm caught and wrenched behind his back, almost to the breaking point. It was all over before Shepard's squad got there.

"Now that I've got your undivided attention, I need you to tell me where I can find Rico Contreras." Shepard asked the man he held by the arm.

"Fuck you man!" He replied intelligently.

As if it were rehearsed, Zaeed kicked the young man in the groin, making him almost fall to his knees.

"We're being nice right now. You better talk before we let the bald girl and the freak who don't bleed red at you." Shepard said into his ear.

"Gah, Rico hangs out by warehouse fourteen in the scrapyard. Just follow the smell of cocaine and red sand, you can't miss it. Now let me go before you break my damn arm!"

"Before I do that, don't you have something to say to this person?" He gestured to the Asari woman.

"She's not, gaaah!" He was saying before Shepard broke his arm.

"I'm sorry miss, I'm really fucking sorry and we'll leave you alone." The man said with tears falling down his cheek.

"Pussy bitch." Jack called him.

"You better leave her alone, or else I'm gonna find you take this off and keep it." Shepard said shaking the man's broken arm.

He released him and he ran away into an alley, leaving his two unconscious friends behind.

"Thank you, I didn't think humans tolerated aliens around here."

"We're all just dysfunctional enough to get along." Garrus said.

"Still, you may not want to be around here when these two wake up. You should at least move to the upper city where it is safe." Shepard added, kicking at the tall man.

"Yeah, I think your right. Thanks again!" The Asari said before leaving for the transport hub presumably.

"She didn't even collect here belongings." Miranda said with concern.

"I doubt she has any to collect." Shepard said solemnly.

* * *

><p>The rest of the walk was rather uneventful, with the exception of some more Reds members hassling them over having Garrus with them and a creepy guy offering Jack money for a good time. The creepy guy ended up much worse off. They finally reached the scrapyard and it was like a small piece of Korlus was on Earth. Scrap, some lethal, some not engulfed their view. True to the gang members advice, the stench of cocaine and red sand assaulted their nostrils. Jack gave a delight filled sigh.<p>

"Feeling a little home sick?" Zaeed asked Jack.

"Fuck you old man, I'm just happy that the smell covers up your stench." Jack said a little angrily.

"Both of you quit it, we need to stay focused." Miranda said from Shepard's side.

"Easy pick ins, I could see why Rico would hang out here." Shepard said as he began walking.

They hadn't walked very far before they saw to people up ahead. The man who stood tall saw them and look surprised, but ignored them for the moment.

"Please Rico, I need the stuff man, I need it!" A dirty, malnourished man pleaded.

"Come on now Dave, you know this stuff isn't for free." Rico told him, waving the canister of red sand around Dave's face.

Dave's head followed it like a dog's head follows a swaying piece of meat. He looked to be on the verge of drooling as well.

"I'll pay you, you know I'm good for it."

"No I don't. I know your good for those three gold teeth of yours though."

"My, my golf teeth?"

"Here." Rico pulled some heavy duty pliers out of his pocket and gave it to Dave.

Dave looked at them, then at the canister, and then began to rip his gold teeth out. His addiction had ruined his gum's, so the teeth came out a little easier. He still screamed from the pain, causing blood to fly everywhere. He held out the three solid gold teeth and Rico took them, despite the blood, and handed Dave the canister. The wretched man took off like a child with a bag full of candy. Rico dropped the gold teeth into one of his many pockets and walked towards Shepard and his group.

"I didn't ever think I would see you again John." Rico now just stood three feet from them, apparently unafraid of the group before him.

"I hoped I would never need to see you again, you or any of the others. But you guys just couldn't leave me alone, could you?"

Rico raised a curious eyebrow to this.

"My ship, the base, that message found at the site of the theft!" Shepard shouted at him, stepping closer.

Rico didn't even flinch.

"Oh, right. That's a nasty bit of business there, but that's all it is, business. For me at least." He shrugged while saying this.

"What do you mean for you at least?" Miranda asked him.

"What that means is that I'm in it for the money. A lot of money. Others may have ulterior motives. I'm sure y'all must have made some enemies. Especially you John."

"I'm not here to play games Rico. I want my ship back! I want my crew back! And if your aren't the one behind this, then I want to know who is!" Shepard drew his pistol and aimed it a Rico's head.

Rico actually looked afraid now, though only a little bit. Shepard found his aim going off, the Phalanx's laser drifting down Rico's body before he dropped it. The he was on the ground, and he could hear the grunts and thumps of the others going down as well. He then smelt something in the air, something different from the stench of the yard and red sand. Whatever it was, it was making him black out. Rico didn't even have the courtesy to wait until they he was passed out before he started taking his equipment.

* * *

><p>Shepard awoke in a room filled machinery, half finished works, and the smell of too many drugs to identify. He was bound by his hands, but not locked up in a cell. Him and the others were left on the floor, all bound the same way, with two guards watching them. His head was drowsy from the knockout gas Rico had put them out with.<p>

"Where the fuck are we!" Jack fumed behind him, clearly less effected by the drug than anyone else.

"Keep it down bitch. And you and the brunette whore there better not try any anything with those biotics." One of the guards said.

"You better hope that I don't get out off these cuffs asshole!" Jack said dangerously.

"I said shut up!" The guard moved to hit Jack with the but of his shotgun.

"Leave it Jeremy." Rico said whilst coming into the room.

He wasn't alone either. Someone fully clad head to toe in armor accompanied him, his face obscured by a helmet. From what Shepard could guess and see, the man was heavily built and taller than Rico and himself, about 6'7 and maybe 240lbs without the armor. He approached all of them with Rico.

"We don't want to damage the merchandise Jeremy, so let it go. Will they want all of them?" Rico asked the armored man.

He gave a long look at all five of them. He tilted his head at Miranda, probably giving her longer look than Garrus Zaeed and Jack. When he looked at Shepard, he appeared to physically tense up. He then knelt down so that he face to face with Shepard. His hand cupped Shepard's face as he ran a finger along one of Shepard's glowing scars. Shepard tore his head out of his grasp and the armored man knelt for a few more seconds before finally standing up. Then he spoke.

"They'll be pleased to get all five of them. Along with the people already on the ship, the payout should be exceptional. Too be safe though, the rest of the crew needs to be captured or killed as well. That damn admiral as well." His voice was already raspy, never mind the muffling of the helmet.

"I want the pay for them before we focus on the others. Alexander isn't fully convinced with this business venture, and if he finds out that I'm doting Reds resources behind his back," Rico began saying.

"The money will come Rico. Money and power, it all comes to those who wait, and those who do what they were fucking paid to do." The armored man raised his voice beneath his helmet.

Rico shrunk away from this slightly, but the an armored hand slapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry Rico, I'm sure you'll have no trouble getting the rest of them. Once you do, you'll never need to worry about Alexander or anything else again. I'll have one of the employer's agents come by to pick these five up in a few hours." Then the armored man left.

"That guy creeps me out, and I've even seen his face. Like I said John, it's just business for me."

"Your making a big mistake Rico. You can still make it right by telling me what you know and letting us go."

"No thanks. First of all, I don't want to piss that guy or his bosses off. I think it would be unhealthy. Secondly, I used to trust you. I trusted you for years, even put my life in your hands. You betrayed that trust years ago. We've all needed to rebuild after that. You've already met Tyrone, he finally got that night club. Marcus completely lost his marbles."

"Marcus is dead." Shepard added roughly.

"Oh well, tough luck for him than. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner, he really was lost without you." Rico spoke about this so nonchalantly about a subject that Made Shepard so angry.

"And what happened to the others? To Damion and Sean?" Shepard asked through clenched teeth.

"If I knew, I wouldn't tell you. I think I've talked to you too much already, so I'm gonna ask you not to give these boys too much trouble." Rico said and turned to the guard called Jeremy.

"Be nice, if I lose money because they're are damaged, its coming out of you."

Jeremy got scared because Rico didn't say it would come out of his paycheck, it would come out of **him**. Despite the threats, after twenty minutes of watching the prisoners, the two guards got bored and complacent. That's why Jeremy didn't notice Shepard until his legs were swept out from under him and his head was wrapped in between Shepard's squeezing legs. The other guard swept by Garrus, and Miranda and Zaeed sped up the process by knocking him out. Jack turned to Jeremy stuck in Shepard's legs.

"I don't need my biotics for this!" She said before she brought her boot down on his face, braking his nose and knocking him out.

With both of the guards down for the count, Miranda and Jack used their biotics to break all of their bonds. A locker in the room contained their weapons and they all suited up. They gathered by the door and prepared to breach it.

On the other side of said door, another guard leaned against it lazily. His head was throbbing from a migraine he got from all the fumes from the drug production. It increased substantially when the door behind him was kicked down, falling on top of him and crushing him as five pairs of feet trudged over it. Shepard and his squad went about like a small army moving through the warehouse. The Reds members had decent equipment, but were nowhere near as good fighters. The main problem was the environment, machines containing volatile chemicals used in the production of many kinds of drugs were spread out throughout the area. This meant that Jack needed to mitigate her use of the shockwave, and Zaeed his inferno grenade. Despite this, Shepard, Garrus, and Miranda's skill with guns more than made up for it against the bumbling gangsters.

"All hostiles are dead Shepard, we should get out of here." Garrus told him.

"Not yet, I need to find Rico and find out what he knows."

"Shepard he could be miles away from here by now." Miranda said.

They then heard the clanking of machinery, of something big. A large metal door began to open on the far wall. The sight that greeted them was a twenty foot tall machine with huge cannon mounted on one arm, and a claw on the other. Where the head would be, Rico sat at the controls behind reinforced glass.

"Take cover!" Shepard shouted to everyone, though it went without saying.

Rico's mech came thundering out of the compartment and smashed through a pillar, causing part of the ceiling to come down.

"Your just too much trouble to keep John! I'll have to sell you and your friends piece by piece!" The mech fired a missile from the cannon.

The missile struck near Jack, obliterating the machinery she hid behind and throwing her across the ground. To give her time to recover, Miranda tried to overload the mech's shields with an electric shock. However, the electricity dispersed at the feet of the machine into the ground.

"This mech has been grounded so that overloading it won't work. I hope you have a plan B!" Rico said through the cockpit speakers as he open fired on Miranda.

Rico opened fire again, forcing her into cover. Toxic fumes were filling the room and they all were feeling the effects.

"We need to get out of here before we suffocate! Cover me!" Shepard said as he took off towards the mech.

"With what?" Garrus asked as he overloaded the shields and fired at the cockpit window.

While Rico was distracted, Shepard managed to get behind the mech and climb onto it. He climbed to the top and pulled out his Geth shotgun, charged it to full power, and destroyed one of the clamps sealing the cockpit lid. Rico must have noticed because the mech started to thrash violently. Shepard had to hold on for dear life as he was swung about like a rag doll.

"Shepard hold on!" Jack yelled with biotic power gathering in her hands.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Shepard replied.

Jack unleashed a shock wave directed at the mech's leg, forcing in onto one knee. Shepard took advantage of the respite and destroyed the other clamp, making the cockpit window slip back. Holding onto the lip of the cockpit, Shepard played with the controls of the mech. He gun butted Rico awkwardly from his position and managed to aim the cannon at the large steel warehouse door and fired a missile at it. Once a large hole was made, he shouted down to his squad mates.

"Everyone out!"

They obeyed and got out quickly. Shepard jumped down and started making his way towards the exit. The fumes made his vision blur, his legs heavy, and he was short of breath. Then he heard stomping noises behind him.

"I'm gonna crush you like a bug!" Rico shouted down to him.

Rico didn't even shoot, he truly wanted to crush Shepard. Shepard ran as fast as he could from the surprisingly fast mech. Thirty feet, stomps. Twenty feet, stomps. Ten feet, stomps. Five feet, and he was underneath the shadow of the metal foot. He used as much strength as he could to dive out from beneath it, and out into the dirt. Relatively clean oxygen flooded his lungs and he felt his strength return. He didn't have much time to rest because Rico and his mech came thundering out of the warehouse in pursuit. He continued his run, feeling like a rat in a tunnel because towers of scrap metal surrounded him on the sides. He was maybe four feet ahead of the mech, but the clawed arm closed the distance instantly as it grabbed Shepard and lifted him into the air.

"You've caused me so much trouble John! Now I gotta replace the men, equipment, the product! You owe me a lot of money now. I'm sure your value will more than cover it, even if I do pop your head off your shoulders."

Rico wasn't going to make this fast. Shepard felt the claw slowly tighten around him. His bones protested, he could feel the machine beneath his chest move against his skin. He heard his heart in his ears, then he heard the most beautiful voice ever.

"Do it now!" Miranda shouted from behind some cover.

Garrus opened his omni tool and activated the grenades placed in a huge tower of scrap metal. The explosions caused it to fall over and onto Rico and his mech. Shepard hit the ground hard and rolled out of the way of some falling debris. As quickly as it had started, it was over. A mountain had come down and buried the mech. Shepard climbed through it and found a hand pinned underneath. He didn't need to dig him out, Rico was dead. Shepard sighed heavily. He wasn't sure if it was frustration because Rico couldn't tell him anything, or the emotional loss of seeing someone who had been such a big part of his life dead. He wanted to be angry, he didn't know at who, just that he wanted to.

"Shepard?" Miranda said behind him.

He wanted to be angry, but not at her. Not at his friends. He turned to them.

"Let's head back, we need to regroup, rethink our plans."

"Shepard, I'm sorry about Rico. It was my idea to place the bombs so if you want to be angry," Miranda started.

"Thank you." Shepard told her.

"Thank you all." He said to everyone.

"Your definitely going down the list Shepard. Your almost tied with Zaeed." Jack joked.

"He wishes he could tie with me." Zaeed said.

* * *

><p>The ride back to the outpost was relatively quiet. The excitement was at the outpost. When they landed, Hackett was waiting for them. He actually looked stressed out.<p>

"What's going on here Admiral?" Shepard asked him.

"I think it's best if I just show you Commander."

He led them towards the detention block. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing was out of place.

"Shepard, before I let you see this, I need to tell something. This happened when twenty soldiers were stationed at the base, the rest of your squad was here, and we've have got absolutely nothing on the video feed. The camera watching the cells was deactivated, but the soldiers in the camera room insist that they never left it. Now go look."

Shepard was on high alert because of the Admiral's words. The sight that he saw, he wasn't nearly prepared for it. Tyrone sat against the wall, a hole in his forehead, his throat sliced to the point of his head nearly falling off. The sheer amount of blood almost turned his black neck red, and his suit was completely drenched. Shepard didn't care. He didn't care about the foul smell or the horrific sight. He was staring at the writing on the wall. Written thinly in blood, most likely Tyrone's, were the words,

_Snakes eat Rats._


	9. Drawing the Lines

_It's been a long ass time since my last update. School sucks, and life in general isn't very pleasant right now. Also, I finally got out the first chapter in my dragon age story because I was putting it off too long. So we left off last with Rico being introduced, and killed off. We've also mentioned three other people; Sean, Damien, and Alexander. And to keep up with people dying horribly, Tyrone was whacked in his cell, right underneath everyone's noses. Keep reading and reviewing as things get more personal._

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><p><em>This is one hell of a ship! <em>The Informant thought to himself.

He walked down the the short corridor from the helm to the galactic map in the middle of the Normandy. He admired all the consoles controlling weapons and scanning devices. He stepped up the ramp to stand over the holographic map of the Milky Way galaxy. He found his own position on the map and laughed. It seems that whoever was in charge of keeping the galactic maps updated hadn't gotten around to changing it, because according to this, he was still in the Viper Nebula. Well, he was in theory. Since the exploding Mass Relay, none of the planets were inhabited, some weren't even in one piece anymore. Most extraordinarily, the beginnings of a black hole were starting to form from the gravity well left behind by the explosion. It hadn't come about yet, but it would develop into a gluttonous force eventually. So long as the ship stayed well enough away from it, it shouldn't be a problem.

_Lets see what their packing._

The Informant went into the armory and found more guns than he knew what to do with. Pistols, shotguns, rocket launchers and everything in between. He picked up an Avenger and aimed down the sights. He aimed it left, right, up, down, and behind him to find someone in his sights. It surprised him enough that his finger found the trigger, but didn't squeeze. Yet.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" A gruff voice asked him.

"I feel like a kid on Christmas morning." The Informant said, still aiming.

"Well I'm glad that you find this so amusing, but you should make sure your job is done before you play around!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Put the rifle down."

"Tell me what your talking about first."

"Quit screwing around!"

"I'm the one with the gun, so you are clearly in no position to make demands." The Informant said in a wise cracking tone.

The other person grabbed the barrel and turned it away forcefully with a snarl.

"Working with your kind is punishment enough already without your stupidity!"

"My kind? Why Balak, are you implying something?"

The Batarian bared his teeth and growled angrily. The question was a stupid one, which is why he asked it in the first place. Watching Balak almost blowing his top was great fun.

"You were paid to do a job, and you aren't doing it."

"Once again, what?" The Informant asked more seriously.

"That other human, Rico, is dead and Shepard remains at large...are you laughing?" Balak said with renewed fury.

The Informant shook ever so slightly from his slight inward chuckling.

"Sorry about that, it just that I didn't expect Shepard to kill Rico. Still, I believe Shepard will find a surprise waiting for him after wards."

"If I were in charge, I wouldn't be wasting my time with scum like you and these men you keep hiring to bring Shepard in."

"That's just it Balak, you're not in charge. Your boss tasked me with getting Shepard for him because he realizes that a bunch of Batarian's marching on Earth to grab an Alliance Admiral and the hero of the galaxy would just cause too many, problems."

Balak clenched his fists harder and breathed deeper with rage. The Informant, pushing Balak to the edge of his breaking point, slapped him on the shoulder and squeezed like they were old friends.

"I understand your impatience Balak. I mean, after everything that Shepard has done to you, and your people, I can totally relate. I just need you let me handle things halfway. Haven't we come through so far? I mean the ship and the crew are just a taste of things to come."

"Yes, you have gotten the Normandy and the useless members of the crew, the ones who weren't directly involved. Yet Shepard and Hackett, the real prizes, are still free without justice having been served to them. And to top it all off, three of the people you insisted upon hiring are dead and we have no idea where Shepard will go next!"

"On the contrary, I know exactly where he is going."

"Check the feeds again, and search the perimeter for any signs of tampering or forced entry of any kind." Hackett told a soldier.

"And the body sir?"

"Bag it and ship it out of here, He was never here."

The soldier nodded and left to carry out his orders. Hackett sighed heavily and rubbed his temples underneath his cap. For someone to infiltrate an Alliance building filled with hardened soldiers and members of Shepard's squad to make that kind of, mess, and not be noticed at all was very unsettling.

"You weren't kidding when you told me about them." Hackett said to the quiet figure in the corner.

Shepard didn't say anything back to him. His arms were crossed over his chest and his head bowed. He wore an expression of anger and anguish.

"Does your squad know about them? I mean, do they know everything you told me?"

Shepard remained silent and scowled even more.

"Until you're willing to come clean with them, don't let this get into your head. It's unfair to them."

Shepard was out the door before Hackett could finish, but the words still stung. This was some cruel joke. An almost unbearably cruel joke. He should have been more respectful to the Admiral. Hackett got everything cleaned up before any of his squad could see it, and any soldier's hiding it were smart enough not to press the subject with him. But he didn't care enough to respect authority, or gratitude, or friendship. What Hackett had given him his advice far too late, this was getting to him.

There were two ways he could look at this. The personal, human way. The sight of Tyrone murdered and covered in his blood was gruesome to say the least. Whoever wrote those words on the wall had a sick sense of humor. Alternatively, he could look at it factually and logically, like something else. Rico was dead, and the Informant is working for someone else. Also, Alexander is, or was, involved to some extent. The second way of thinking didn't so much calm him down as it did focus him. It worked just like Alexander taught him it would.

The last thought made him pause uncomfortably. Now he was resorting to things techniques Alexander taught him. He didn't dare assume that it was only natural to listen to someone who was the closest thing to a parent he ever had. That was a damning thought that was all too easy to think off. What was even more disturbing was that, underneath all the anger, Shepard was hurt. Hurt that Alexander would be involved in trying to kill him. And worst of all, the regret. While not the perfect caregiver by any stretch of the imagination, Alexander had given him a life outside of lonely poverty since he was seven years old. The last time they saw each other, it didn't end well. That last job, Shepard had left the Reds and Alexander didn't take it well.

"How could I blame him?"

He couldn't, not without being a hypocrite. No matter how good he may have thought he was being at that time, it didn't erase all the other atrocities. Shepard had walked into the main lobby and, to his disappointment, he wasn't alone.

"Shepard, what happened? Why was everyone in an uproar?" Tali asked him.

"It, it was nothing Tali." He tried to lie.

"Right. Hacket gave the soldiers specific orders to not let any of us see anything. Why is that?" She insisted.

"Please Tali just drop it."

"But Shepard the soldiers looked scared, and one of them looked like he was about to be sick."

"I don't want to talk about it Tali."

"But Shepard…"

"Enough!" Shepard shouted at her.

Tali jumped a little. Unfortunately, she was far too caring a girl to leave it at that, which was her damning quality right now.

"Well I'm sure something happened now."

"I told Hackett to not let any of you see what happened in there because I didn't want you to. I am your Commander and what I say goes, if you can't respect that, then you can leave." Where Shepard's final words before he left Tali alone.

He stomped off when he knew he should stay, but he didn't care. He knew that Hackett's worries about him were coming true, but he didn't care. He knew that he needed to say something to Tali, but he felt tired of the act of thinking about others, so he didn't care.

Tali wouldn't cry. She wouldn't dare cry because of something Shepard had said. All words aside, the man has shown her kindness, understanding, and patience that would make it unfair for her to cry over some words. It didn't however; stop her from going out for a walk.

"You are much more than our Commander Shepard." She said aloud for herself.

"Where do we go from here?" Garrus asked Shepard.

Shepard had met up with Garrus in an office that Hackett had allowed them to use. It wasn't the Normandy's briefing room, but it sufficed well enough for about five people.

"I'd prefer to move forward without getting into a fight, but from what Rico and that armored man said, someone wants us badly, and aren't in the habit of asking nicely."

"Do you have any more of an idea as to who it could be?"

Shepard drew a mental diagram in his head. That message that was left at the site of the Normandy's theft alluded to the involvement of eight people. He immediately erased two of them from the list. He then pictured Tyrone, Rico, and Marcus. A line stretched from each of them to the helmet of this Informant, for he had gotten to all three of them and brought both Tyrone and Rico on board. He then drew a line from Rico to the bearded face of Alexander. Rico had said that Alexander wasn't fully on board with the Informant, and that he was using Reds resources behind Alexander's back. He drew a line from Alexander to the Informant. Finally, the Informant spoke of his employer, meaning someone else was behind this. In the end, all the lines met at the Informant.

"That Informant is the only link we have to whoever he is working for. We need him to get to the person, or people, who want us and the Admiral dead or alive."

"But we don't know who or where he is." Garrus said with disappointment.

"No, we don't. But Rico said that Alexander wasn't fully convinced with his plan, which means they must have met at some point."

"Which means that this Alexander is our next target."

"I'd prefer him not to be a target."

"He may not give us any choice. What is he to you Shepard?"

Shepard hoped that he wouldn't need to answer a question even remotely like this. What was Alexander to him? What were any of them to him? What was he to them? Why did he care?

"Garrus, please, just respect that it doesn't matter." Shepard pleaded.

"I won't press the subject, but you will need to realize that it does matter." Garrus said before leaving.

_I'm afraid of just how much it will matter to you Garrus. To all of you. To everybody._

* * *

><p>Tali was disappointed in herself, she was lost. She managed to navigate the Citadel easily enough, but was lost in this,Toronto. She remembered turning a few times on an otherwise straight shot from the base, but that was enough make her lose her way. She was even more of a minority here than on the Citadel, with all people she had seen being human. She saw an elaborately dressed Asari a few minutes ago, but other than that only humans stared at her. They were looks of curiosity, surprise, and even fear from some. Her little walk she took to let Shepard cool off had turned into a very distressing situation. It would've been even more distressing if she had noticed the looks she was getting from three men with skulls and a red ten tattoos.<p>

* * *

><p>"Why don't you untie me so I can kick you in your daddy bags you four eyed bastard!" Ken said to the annoyed Batarian guard.<p>

"Shut it Ken!" Gabby told her partner.

The two of them were locked behind a force field, and they could see through the energy other members of the crew in cells as well. They had been stuck here for a couple of days now, with the guard giving them a small meal every meal time. The guard in front of their cell was talking to somebody, and then he deactivated the force field and someone, a human, stepped inside their cells.

"Hello there." He said in an almost cheery tone.

"Who the hell are you, and where are we?" Ken asked.

"Who are you? And you're inside a cell."

"What the hell, don't you know who we are? We are apart of the crew of Commander..." Gabby began.

"Commander Shepard! First human Specter! Savior of the galaxy! Destroyer of the Collectors, and according to all civilized people right now, a criminal." The man said.

"How do you know about the Collectors?" Gabby asked.

"The same way I know about the Reapers, people who know a lot told me. Now answer my question, who are you?"

"I think it isn't good for a professional scumbag to not know who he is kidnapping." Gabby told him.

"Your clever, and cute. Is that how I should address you? The clever, cute one." He approached her.

"Oi, if you put a hand on her I'll put my foot up your arse." Ken said, stepping between the man and Gabby.

The Informant grabbed hold of Ken's neck and squeezed, hard. He timed it perfectly so that he was squeezing when Ken exhaled. The engineer's eyes bulged and he tried to get out of the choke, but the Informant was a force of nature. He felt a small fist smacking into his back, probably the clever and cute one. The adrenaline, the smell of fear and stress induced sweat, the screams of the girl and the people who watched helplessly in the other cells, the choking sounds and the feel of skin writhing on the other side of his glove. It was intoxicating to say the least. He could hear the voices quietly through his ecstasy.

"Let him go you coward!"

"Stop! Stop it!"

"Kenneth!"

"Please, your killing him please leave him alone!"

The engineer, apparently named Kenneth finally stopped struggling. He stopped clawing, and stopped kicking. He just stopped.

"If you had just told me your name clever cutie, we probably could have avoided this, probably." The Informant told a balling Gabby.

He shrugged and released his grip of Kenneth's neck, and his limp body fell to the ground gracelessly. Gabby fell to her knees next to him and shook him, but he didn't stir. The Informant watched her cry over him, her tears staining his shirt, her shuddering shoulders. Clearly this man was important to her. He looked put to the other cells and saw the horror on their faces, and the hatred that was directed at him. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with. The look that affected him the most was the frustrated look of the guard.

"Don't get your underpants in a twist." He told the guard.

The Informant turned Kenneth onto his back and stomped on his stomach. Spit and a disgusting sound spewed from Kenneth's mouth before he breathed in heavily, holding his neck and stomach. Gabby immediately embraced him in a hug, and the Informant was already on his way out.

"I wouldn't jeopardize my pay over someone as worthless as that." He told the guard before leaving the cell block.

* * *

><p>"Admiral! Admiral!" A soldier said as he ran through the outpost.<p>

Hackett was in his office sipping a cup of scotch.

"What is it soldier?"

"Sir, we found this at the entrance to the compound."

Hackett took one look at it and immediately got up. He found Shepard in that office he had given him, looking over something on his omni tool. As soon as he entered, the Commander closed his tool, but he didn't worry about that right now.

"Commander, this will interest you, among other things." Hackett said.

He placed the items on the desk, and Shepard took them with shaking hands. One item was a data pad, but he didn't read it. The other item he cradled like it were made of fragile glass. It stirred in him unbearable guilt and regret, and seething fury. It was a purple color with elaborate designs on it. He had seen it wrapped around her head for a long time. It was Tali's head wrap. Shepard got up, still carrying the cloth carefully, and picked up the data pad before leaving.

"What are you going to do Shepard?" Hackett asked him, though he really didn't mind at this point.

"I got a new target." Shepard said.

He needed to find Garuus and tell him of his change of heart.

* * *

><p><em>I know this probably isn't acceptable for the wait, but the next chapter will have more, meat, to it. And I am deliberately spelling informant as Informant because that is how he will be addressed for the time being. And yes Balak is back, so hopefully you know his story and why he'll be especially pissed off right now. His history with Shepard we'll b<em>e explored as well. Read, review.


	10. Wise Old Owl

_Thanks a lot for the reviews, especially Leene for the incredibly encouraging one. I'm not ashamed to say I was blushing as I read it. I hope I can make the plot as appealing to you as the characters. Thanks to darkerego as well for being one of the most frequent reviewers. So I promised more meat, and here it is, in more ways than one._

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><p>Silence, dangerous silence with murderous intent mixed with the sounds of a plethora of firearms being cocked, stocked, and loaded. Samara sighted her Vindicator and Tempest. A friend has been taken by unjust criminals, and she was duty bound to take action, preferably with her biotics. Grunt loaded shells into his custom Claymore shotgun, a gift from Shepard. A member of his krant needed help, and his battle master was giving him freedom to 'test' these people. Shepard and Garrus were already set before the others arrived. This was more personal than maybe anyone else. Tali was in trouble, and they were pissed. Shepard was not only angry, but he couldn't shake the feeling of regret that clawed at his mind constantly. He had given Tali a reason to leave, and if she was killed, he would never be able to apologize. He shook those thoughts from his head. She wouldn't be dead, not yet. She was an incentive for him and the others to come to the Reds, a grave mistake on their part. They were already in for a world of pain, and god help them if she was hurt. He wouldn't give them the benefit of dying quickly.<p>

"Shepard, a word?" Garrus asked him.

Shepard could hear in his voice that it wasn't a request. He wanted to say no, that they needed to prepare, but Garrus was unlikey to accept that. He followed the Turian just into the hallway.

"What's this about Garrus?"

"Oh, well it's about Tali for mostly, and it's also about you and this Alexander."

"Garrus, we don't have time for..."

"Don't tell me we don't have time. Don't tell me that it does not matter. Don't let more people suffer for your stubbornness. I need you to tell me something, anything about what kind of situation Tali is in."

Shepard had a knot in his throat. His mouth was open, but his tongue remained motionless, his breath held. He didn't meet Garrus's eyes, but he felt them digging into his head. Why was this so goddamn important? Why did he need to reveal so much?

_You don't let people hurt you. If you are hurt, you don't act right, you act mad and broken. Then you get killed, or worse, fail me. But if someone does hurt you, make sure that you hurt them worse, much worse lad._

That's why, Shepard realized after returning from some far off dark place, is why he needed to reveal something. This was right up Alexander's alley. He wouldn't let killing two high ranking members and disrupting operations go without getting revenge. And that meant Tali would suffer.

_No._ Shepard thought with as much determination as if he had said it aloud.

"Alexander is, was the closest thing I ever had to a parent. Well, a parent is sugar coating it maybe. He is the leader of the Reds, has been for years now. I was just a street urchin, living out of a run down orphanage with barely enough food to feed the mice. I was eight, and I was walking through this secluded pathway that ran for a few yards between buildings. I always walked through there, it was always empty, safe. But that time, it wasn't empty. In the dim brightness of a neglected light, a group of people stood with a clear line between them. I hid nearby to eavesdrop, and withing minutes there were gunshots. I was scared, too scared to move and I was hit in the shoulder by a stray shot. It was the first time I ever felt pain like that."

Shepard remembered that moment vividly. Despite having been wounded more times than a normal person could withstand throughout his career, he remembered the first time with more pain than any other.

"When I managed to pull myself up off the ground, two people were left. One was on the ground with the other standing over him with a gun. I didn't hear what they said, because all I remember was picking up a gun and shooting the armed man, dead."

"The one on the ground..." Garrus began.

"Alexander." Shepard finished for him.

Both of them were silent, a realization donning on one, ironically still ignorant, and a large weight being lifted off the chest of the other, though a sense of foreboding still lingered.

"You asked me what Alexander is to me Garrus, well I'll tell you this, he was important to me."

Garrus, to Shepard's dismay, still seemed unsatisfied.

"As long as Tali is more important to you when the shit hits the fan, and in our case, it always does."

Garrus didn't sound like he was trying to be disrespectful, but he did sound suspicious. Shepard tried to ignore it, but that sense of foreboding wouldn't go away. The sense amplified as he walked down the hall from which Garrus left through, almost to the intersection where another hall passed through. He walked passed it slowly, and he didn't need to turn completely to notice her. How long had she been there? It was too late to regret what he revealed to Garrus, and Miranda unintentionally.

* * *

><p>"General, you asked for me?" Balak said.<p>

A Batarian dressed in an elaborate military uniform turned in his chair to face Balak. He wore a bored expression of superiority.

"Yes I did. I'm curious as to the progress of our mission."

"Yes sir, the ship, the Normandy is in our possession, along with the majority of her crew." Balak said through a ruse of confidence.

"And is Shepard among them?"

"No sir."

"Of course he isn't I already knew that you fool. Why isn't he in a cell on this ship along with the Alliance Admiral?"

"With all due respect sir, if you would just let me go in with some troops myself instead of letting this human sick his Earth dogs on Shepard,"

"That wasn't nearly respectful enough Balak. I'm paying this human to 'sick his Earth dogs' on Shepard because I don't want the Alliance to come after us when we aren't ready for them. Also, the reason I'm not letting you handle it is because I remember how Shepard foiled you gloriously when I sent you to that asteroid."

Balak held his tongue, but his facial features betrayed him.

"That's also why I'm not letting you spearhead this operation. You are far too emotional."

"I believe in the cause we are fighting for!" Balak shouted.

The General sighed and got up from his chair. He showed no signs of hostility, until he backhanded Balak across the face. Balak didn't say anything he just kept his head low while looking the taller Batarian in the eye.

"I know you do, and so do I. I know anger and shame, the feelings our entire species live with since the humans took what was rightfully ours and turned all of Citadel Space against us. I know the vengeance you seek against Shepard for the events on the asteroid, and I know that you, and I, and every Batarian worthy of the name demand the blood of the humans responsible for killing millions of our people in the Viper Nebula. And I want you to know that we shall give it to them, we shall make Shepard and his crew and Hackett examples for all to see that the Batarians are not to be trifled with."

Balak remained silent, but he gave the general his rapt attention.

"We will have them, we will have our justice, and our revenge."

"And this human whom you are paying to deliver Shepard to us?" Balak inquired.

"The Batarians are owed millions of lives. He will be another down payment."

"Very well, General Zakman."

General Zakman waved him away and sat back down in his chair. Balak left and felt more reassured in his goals. He was so happy that he didn't notice the Informant on the other side of the wall, watching him.

* * *

><p>"Who the hell are you?" A Reds member asked Shepard.<p>

The answer came in the form of Samara's biotic throw sending him through the cement wall. He was dead before he hit the ground, his unarmored chest being caved in from the impact. Seven other men were interrupted from their card game when the body landed onto the card table. Two of them had holes twice as big around as their fist appear in their chests when Grunt charged in with his shotgun. Not breaking off from his charge, Grunt slammed into a third man, shattering his spine. From outside the hole in the wall, shots flew in to crack open the foreheads of two others. The last man finally had enough sense to pull out his gun, but he never got to use it. Razor sharp bullets plowed into his gut, spilling it's contents onto the floor as he fell down dead.

Shepard, Garrus, Samara, and Grunt had come here fully prepared for a fight. The data pad left with Tali's headdress read that they were to go to a discrete location and wait. Like hell. Alexander must be losing his touch, he usually has better schemes than that. Shepard had decided to head to the Reds base, where Tali was most likely held. He came here to get Tali back, and he brought his Revenant light machine gun to do it. He borrowed Thane's Shredder ammo for good measure.

* * *

><p>On the screens scattered about his office, Alexander watched Shepard and his three accomplices breach through the wall of the Reds base of operations and destroy the first group of guards. He took a sip of his coffee and leaned forward onto his desk, his gray hair falling down slightly into his eyes.<p>

"Here we go."

* * *

><p>Shepard was painting the walls of his old 'home' with the blood of it's residents. Memories, good and bad, came back to him as fast as the bullets left his weapon. It didn't slow him down or throw his aim off, it focused him more. This was a six story building, and he had fought his way to the fourth before he realized that he had gotten far ahead of Grunt and Garrus and Samara.<p>

* * *

><p>Shepard was on the fourth floor, and dead bodies surrounded him. The camera on the third floor showed his alien friends still fighting. Not having a particularly hard time, but still fighting all the same while Shepard continued on ahead.<p>

"Hmph, you haven't changed a bit John."

Alexander brought up his omni tool and opened the channel.

"Stop him, stop all of them now!"

* * *

><p>Fifth floor. The fifth floor, maybe thirty men and women killed by him alone. Shepard found this floor to be very quiet and devoid of activity. He listened carefully, the only sounds coming from his footsteps and the faint sound of gunfire from the lower levels. Doors on either side of the hall stretched the length of it. He reached the end and stopped, drawn to the room on the left. His old room. Something came over him, and he closed his gun up and placed it on his back. The door slid open at his approach and he stepped inside. He remembered sleeping in here, eating, fucking, laughing, crying. The furniture was different, but he didn't need it to remember. Was he missing this?<p>

Something sharp slashed at his throat , bouncing off of his neck armor and cutting his chin open. He spun around and his hands found a neck, a slender woman's neck, and the back of blond hair. A woman struggled under his hold and stared at him with fearful eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Shepard tried to get a hold of himself, but the blood dripping down, her audacity at trying to stab him. He looked her right in the eye, slid his hand from her neck to her chin, his other hand to her crown, and twisted her neck sharply so that a meaty crack echoed in the room. Her eyes, still open, showed no life, only her last expression of terror and the dried tears. Shepard let her drop to the ground roughly and walked out, completely numb. Numb from what, he dared not to think about.

* * *

><p>Shepard had reached the sixth and final floor and was heading towards the main office. Alexander watched on the camera outside the office and watched Shepard kick the door in.<p>

* * *

><p>The doors flew open, the same wood doors that were here years ago. Shepard had his Revenant unfolding as he walked in, ready to see the beared old face of Alexander. What he saw instead was pathetic.<p>

"Wait, wait please just stop!" Said a man cowering behind his desk.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Shepard asked confusedly.

The man still cowered behind his desk, thinking it some impenetrable shield. replied with a shaky voice.

"My name is Johnathan, and this is my office, my damn building!"

"Where is Alexander?"

"Alexander? That old man hasn't been around here for almost for years now. He put me in charge of the Reds, said he was retiring.

Shepard had a joyless, mental smirk. Of course Alexander would put this scape goat here in his place. He could work with Rico behind the scenes while this spineless little puke could think himself the leader of a bunch of xenophobic punks.

"Where is the Quarian?"

"What?"

"The Quarian! Where is the Quarian! Where the fuck is Tali!"

Johnathan was shaking uncontrollably now.

"She must be at his estate, with Alexander. She was never brought here at all, just this guy head to toe in armor who told us that she would be with him."

Shepard was out the door quicker than Johnathan was able to finish his sentence.

* * *

><p>The ride to the estate took longer than expected, though the loneliness may have added to it. Shepard had commandeered a vehicle left for the estate. He left the others behind, they would only get in the way right now. This was something he needed to do alone. Alexander's estate was in the upper city, in a richer area. Shepard docked the vehicle and approached the doorman.<p>

"Name?" The doorman asked.

"Let me in." Shepard replied.

Before the doorman could reply, voices buzzed in his intercom. He then opened the door.

"You're expected."

"I'll bet."

The inside of the estate was lavish and clean, and expensive by the looks of it. Portraits, small sculptures, and fine leather chairs dominated the scenery.

"Up here."

Shepard recognized that voice perfectly. He began climbing the stairs and stopped before making himself seen at the top. He looked at his armor, and realized he was dirty and bloody. Why did he care how he looked to Alexander? He took a deep breath, feeling nervous, and walked up the last few steps. He saw screens, and a desk, and lounge chair, and something gray, tired, and angry.

"What did I tell you about looking presentable?" Alexander scolded Shepard.

Shepard couldn't believe what he just heard. All that has happened recently, and Alexander was berating him for his clothing?

"Where is Tali?"

"Who?"

"The girl you kidnapped. Her name is Tali."

"Aw yeah, that fishbowl headed thing."

"Shut up!"

"Excuse me?"

"I said shut the hell up! Don't talk about her like that!" Shepard shouted.

"Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to me you little bugger!" Alexander said, standing up.

Shepard was getting very emotional now. He remembered as a young boy that he hated it when Alexander yelled at him. It seems that feeling hadn't subsided after all this time.

"I should blow your goddamn head off right now you little piss-fuck."

Alexander pulled a Carnifex hand cannon out of his desk and aimed it at Shepard, who already had his Phalanx out.

"Fancy pee-shooter you have there John, I remember strapping a couple of them to some of my boys so that they had little more 'umph' when they went to visit a foreman on the space docks."

"I use mine to kill criminals, terrorists, and other bad guys. Your kind of people."

"Oh, the irony in that." Alexander said with a venomous smirk.

Shepard allowed his eye to twitch at that. The irony indeed.

"How long has it been since you've seen me John? Six, seven years?"

"Not nearly long enough." Shepard spat.

"Really? That hurt John. I think I'm owed a little more gratitude than that."

"I think you better release Tali before I kill you in your own home."

"I don't think you'll kill me John, I can tell."

"Are you willing to risk it?"

Alexander dropped his pistol to the ground with a thud.

"I'm not risking anything. I know you too well."

"You don't know anything about me!" Shepard lied to himself.

"I watched you grow up from the oh so tender age of eight to twenty four, I'm know you better than probably anybody else."

"I've changed, I'm not your lapdog anymore, I seen the error of my ways."

"Ha! I don't know what happened to you during that job on Mindoir, but it clearly gave you some misguided sense of absolution."

"You weren't there, you never were. We had to do all your dirty work."

"That dirty work is what kept you fed, clothed, educated, and alive. And don't tell me that you didn't enjoy it."

"I wasn't given a choice!"

"Bullshit! A dragged your sorry little ass out of that alley and taught you how to survive and prosper. Turns out you were a natural at what I did, you can hardly blame me for that. You even took a little protege of your own, but we all saw what a messed up fuck he turned out to be."

Shepard shot a statue behind Alexander, the shaved off piece of metal just almost scraping his ear. Shepard was high on adrenaline. He had missed. In the split second that it took the bullet to leave the barrel and crash into the face of the marble statue, Shepard plowed through all of the sixteen years worth of memories that he had been a member of the Reds, learning from Alexander, working for Alexander, respecting and admiring Alexander. Then the day when he turned his back on the Reds, and them, and Alexander.

* * *

><p><em>Seven years ago.<em>

_They both sat in the same room, at the same desk, across from one another. Each saw something in the other that he didn't like, something that they didn't see before. Shepard saw scum, and a complete lack of moral responsibility. Alexander saw betrayal, and hypocrisy. Alexander picked up his shot glass and let the bottle of whiskey hover over it. In a fit of anger he tossed the glass across the room, shattering it, and proceeded to drink directly from the bottle. Shepard sat silently, dry blood and ash staining his skin, his blood shot eyes looking almost demonic in withing the blackened, stained skin._

_"What the hell did I tell you about looking presentable? Hmm?" Alexander asked him, not really caring but too distraught with emotion to ignore it._

_Shepard didn't say anything, just lowered his eyes to the ground._

_"Answer me for fuck sake!"_

_Shepard remained the same, silent and bowed. Alexander pulled a gun out of the drawer and slammed it down on the desktop. He loosely pointed it at Shepard, but didn't have his finger on the trigger._

_"Why? Why John, why have you done this?"_

_"I'm done."_

_"What?"_

_"I'm done with this gang. The cops are probably on their way here right now__ to. If you want to kill me, then do it now, because you won't get another chance."_

_Alexander placed his finger on the trigger, and took another swig from the whiskey bottle. He looked at it and gave it a disgusted look and dropped it on the ground, spilling the contents at his feet._

_"I can't believe that you of all people would do this to me. I raised you like my own, I cared about you like my own flesh and blood. This gang was your family!"_

_Shepard looked at him with blank eyes. He was spent, and scarred, mentally and physically._

_"I know."_

_The both of them stared at each other. Anguish painted Alexander's face, and Shepard remained a blank slate. Alexander dropped his gun with shaking hands, unable to finish it. His own advice, 'Never let anyone hurt you.', he couldn't follow it, not with this. He thought of Shepard as an adoptive son, as a testament to all his work and energy. Now he was a living insult to it, and yet he could not take Shepard's life._

_Shepard got up from his seat and walked out the door. He wanted to turn and say goodbye. He wanted to say he was sorry for everything, but if he did, then he would be truly lost. So he left, and his inner sobs of sorrow matched the intensity of Alexander's outward ones behind him._

* * *

><p>Alexander rubbed his ear instinctively, checking it for any kind of wound. He turned to look at the destroyed sculpture laying on the ground.<p>

"Hit a sore spot did? Do you have any idea how much that statue was worth?"

"Do you know how much it'll cost to get a new pair of legs?"

"You probably like to think you've changed with some soul searching and fancy medals John, but your still the same man I raised."

"I've wiped out your gang..."

"Again." Alexander interrupted.

"Because you guys have been fucking with me. Tyrone tried to drug me, Rico tried to sell me to the people who took my ship and crew, and now you have Tali hostage. I won't stop with your lackeys Alexander. I've got new people to care about in my life. Now give Tali back. Now."

"I don't have her anymore. I guess that the whole reason you're here is that the 'face' of the Reds told you that I was holding her for this guy in armor, the one who contacted me and showed an intense desire to have you and your squad and this Admiral Hackett, preferably alive. He told me that your ship was stolen, but once I found out it was from an Alliance base, I didn't want any part in it. But Rico always was too greedy for his own good, spending money and using man power behind my back. I would have killed him myself if you hadn't. But you killed my men and interfered in my operations, and I couldn't let that go. So I called up the Informant and made a deal. He picked your fine assed friend up about six hours ago. I don't know who he works for or where he went, so it looks like your trail has run cold."

Shepard lowered his pistol, barely able to hold it. Tali was out of his reach, and he didn't know where to find her. He felt so damn ashamed about his last conversation with her, so stupid for not coming here first instead of assaulting the Reds base. He needed to calm down, needed to think and regroup, needed a plan. He turned to leave back down the stairs, but turned around slowly to face Alexander.

"I don't care what you may have done for me in the past. Raising me, not coming after me when I left, staying away. If she is hurt, I'm coming back and doing what should have been done years ago."

Alexander just stared right back at him, either unconvinced or too angry to care. Shepard left the estate, almost clobbering the doorman as he came out, and left the grounds until he was just on the outskirts of the property. His feet had become lead again, the knot clogging his throat. He tried to rationalize everything, but it was just too hard. Tali's fate was uncertain, the Informant was actively trying to caputre him and his friends for somebody, and Alexander. He lied to himself again. It wasn't over and done with between them. Shepard didn't think he had the will to actually kill him.

The blast came before the sound, a force of air pushing him slightly and then an explosion rocking his ears. Shepard turned to see the estate he had been in mere minutes ago set ablaze with pieces of it falling from the sky. Shepard fell to his knees, the orange and red reflecting off his armor and eyes. Reflecting off of his back were the colors of police craft lights.

* * *

><p><em>And there you go, Shepard has finally had an opportunity to get some closure with Alexander. And then Alexander got blown the hell up. The next chapter, the shit hits the fan big time!<em>


	11. Taken

_So we left off with Shepard, Garrus, Grunt, and Samara going to the Reds base and taking care of business. Shepard got really up close and personal with someone and had one final talk with Alexander, the now late leader of the Reds and the person who recruited Shepard at the age of eight. Now with Alexander's estate being blown up, and Tali's whereabouts still unknown, Shepard has the cops at his back. Enjoy, hopefully._

* * *

><p>The heat hadn't reached him, but Shepard felt a slight gust of air wash over him when the explosion happened. Then he felt something heavy crash into his back and push him to the ground. Then another, and one more after.<p>

"Don't you move asshole! Get those guns off of him!" One of the people, the biggest from the feel of it said.

"Damn, this guy is a walking armory, look at all this!" Another person said.

"Brandon do as the chief says before I try those guns out on you." This was a woman's voice.

Shepard thought he felt something get clasped around his wrists, though he wasn't paying much attention. He watched the growing inferno that was once a beautiful manor burn into the night sky. Shepard was lifted up to his feet and walked to a police cruiser. He still tried his best to stare at the burning wreckage, but his neck could only twist so far the other way.

"Wait, I know his face! This is Commander Shepard!" One of the three cops, sounding like Brandon, exclaimed.

"I don't give a shit if he is your daddy, put him in." The chief said.

Shepard was placed in the back seat of the four man cruiser behind a metal grate, and Brandon and the female cop climbed into the front.

"Take him back to the station and wait for me. No one sees him, no reporters, no friends, no family, no one!" The chief said as the cockpit hatch closed.

Shepard watched the still burning manor from the air and watched it as he flew away, the light somehow not seeming to fade as he got miles away.

* * *

><p>"Tali!" Chawkwas said loudly from within her cell.<p>

Tali was escorted by the cell block guard into the vacant cell directly across the room Chawkwa's. She protested slightly, at least at the guard holding her as she walked. She walked in the cell herself and the kinetic barrier came up, locking her in.

"Tali, are you okay?"

"Not really, but I am happy to see that all of you are here and unharmed."

"How did you get captured?"

"I was stupid and went out on my own and some thugs took me by surprise. I was knocked out before I came here."

"Is Shepard and the others okay?"

"I don't know. Shepard has been going after these people he used to run with in his old gang, apparently they had something to do with all this. Shepard, has been very, emotional, as of late. He's been on edge, all these people have a lot of history with him, obviously."

"I think it goes deeper than just some old gang members. Batarian's own this ship and guard us, I think this may be some kind of retribution for what Shepard did to stop the Reapers from arriving."

"Either way, we need to get out of here. The idiots didn't take my omni tool, I should be able to shut down the barriers."

Tali opened her omni tool and hacked the systems controlling the barrier for her cell. In about a minute, she brought it down.

"Okay now I'll do yo..." She was cut off abruptly.

Tali was hoisted into the air by some unknown force. She dangled there for a few seconds, grasping something that was apparently wrapped around her throat. She then floated backwards and was thrown back into her cell. Out of thin air, a tall being clad in fierce looking black and red armor appeared. The same one that nearly strangled Ken to death.

"Leaving so soon?" The Informant asked Tali.

"Where, where did you come from?" Tali asked as she got up cautiously.

"I've been here since I think "Tali are you okay?" He said mimicking Chawkwas's voice.

It was a surprisingly good impression, and would have been comical from anyone else. It came out oddly sinister and intentionally offensive instead.

"If you had just checked the radar on your omni tool, you would have known I was here, cloaking device or not. You're not nearly as clever as you may think Tali, but much more so than any of these other crew members of yours." He gestured to a cell farther down, containing Ken and Gabby.

"I really shouldn't let you keep that omni tool though, so I'll be taking it. I can never tell where those things are though, especially in an enviro suit. Maybe I should just take the whole arm to be sure." The Informant stepped closer to the smaller Quarian.

Tali felt like a cornered animal. She didn't have her friends or Shepard to protect her, and this man seemed to be blurring the line between a cruel joke and seriousness.

"Leave her alone you animal!" Lieutenant Goldstein said from two cells down on the other wall.

The Informant stopped in his tracks and turned slowly towards the other woman. He pointed to the guard, then at Goldstein's cell. The guard deactivated the cell's barrier and pointed his gun at her.

"Don't go anywhere." The Informant said to Tali.

The other guard watching her made sure that she wouldn't. The Informant entered Goldstein's cell and brought her out by the arm. He then viciously slammed her against the metal wall and pinned her there with one arm.

"You don't want me to take her arm off? So, what, I should take yours?"

"What? Get the hell away from me!" Goldstein tried to get away but she was stuck.

"Hold her here." The Informant told the guard and he complied.

"Now, you tell me what to do since you're so into giving orders. Do I take your arm, or Tali's? If you don't make a decision by the time I'm done, I keep going until you say I move on to that pretty girl."

"Done what?" Goldstein asked fearfully.

The Informant lifted her left arm so that it ran straight against the wall. He then extended his own arm, and from the top of his gauntlet, a foot long serrated blade slid out. The black metal blade gleamed in the light, and Goldstein's terrified face reflected narrowly in it. He pressed the blade at the point where the forearm met the elbow and dragged it down, scraping the skin.

"It's your arm or hers."

"Wait! Wait!" Goldstein screamed.

The informant drew the blade upwards, scraping the skin more, then down again with more pressure, cutting the skin this time. Tali stood petrified, wanting to stop it but unable to speak up. Goldstein screamed more as another, deeper cut made blood start to spill out.

"You're only doing this to yourself. If you had kept your mouth shut instead of trying to act courageous you wouldn't need to make this tough choice yourself. Do you want me to move on to Tali?"

Goldstein remained silent through her tears as another cut had blood pouring onto the ground. Suddenly, the Informant increased pressure considerably and cut halfway through her arm, even the bone.

"Stop!" Goldstein screamed.

"What will it be then?" The Informant asked, apparently oblivious to the blood drenching his hand.

"Take, take Tali's arm." She said as she broke down crying.

The Informant did something unexpected, he started laughing. It was a cruel, victorious laugh.

"Pathetic, really pathetic. You had the audacity to try and protect that girl from me, and now you intend to damn her because of your own pain. You are the worst kind of coward, one that doesn't even realize how frail you are. I should kill you outright, but no, just imagine how awkward it will be to look all these people in the eye and call yourself their ally. If I were you, I would apologize. Yes, apologize!"

The Informant grabbed Goldstein by her hair and dragged her over to Tali. He pulled her head up and placed the blade against her throat.

"Tali, your so called cremate just sold you out. How does that make you feel?"

"Please just leave her alone." Tali said quietly. She was suddenly thankful for her suit's helmet.

"But why? Don't you feel angry, betrayed? Don't you want her to apologize?"

Tali couldn't say anything.

"Apologize!" The Informant shouted at Goldstein.

"I'm sorry Tali."

"Sorry for what?" He asked her as if she were a child.

"I'm sorry for betraying you,you,you..." Goldstein was turning pale from blood loss.

"That's nice, everyone made up. Get her cleaned up." The Informant handed Goldstein over to one of the guards and he took her away.

The cell block was eerily silent, save for the few drips of blood splattering against the ground from the wrist blade. The Informant courteously waved his hand for Tali to go back into her cell. Tali didn't have the will to resist after what just happened, and she obediently went in. With a few presses on his omni tool, the Informant made a thick glass door close down instead of a kinetic barrier.

"Unless you have five Krogan on you, I'd say you won't be able to get out of that."

The Informant moved to leave but finally seemed to notice all the blood on his blade. He wiped it off on the glass door of Tali's cell, painting it in gore.

"Thanks, I hate being dirty. And don't worry about getting lonely; you'll have some more company within the next seven hours."

The long, serrated ebony blade slid back into the Informant's gauntlet with a horrible screeching sound.

"Tell Balak that I'll be gone for awhile, I'm going back to Earth." The Informant told the guard.

* * *

><p><em>The Alliance Outpost- four hours later.<em>

"So let me get this straight, you lost him again?" Joker asked Garrus.

"We didn't lose him, he isn't some pet. He pulled ahead of us as we fought and disappeared, probably went off to do something alone again." Garrus hypothesized, irritated.

"Okay, so he's gone. Again." Joker reiterated.

"I think it has something to do with Tali. We scoured ever room in that cesspool of a base and didn't find her anywhere."

"Do we have any leads? Anything at all?" Miranda asked after being oddly quiet.

"Nothing, we have no idea where..." Garrus began.

"Sirs! Sirs!" Yelled an Alliance soldier as he practically fell into the room.

"What is your problem?" Garrus asked.

"It's Commander Shepard! I put out the word that he was missing and one of my friends at the police station said that they had the Commander in custody."

"What!" Joker, Miranda, and Garrus exclaimed in unison.

"Yeah, apparently he is suspected of murder, and arson for blowing up a house in the wealthier area, and it had people in it."

"There must be some kind of mistake, we need to get down there and get him out." Miranda said.

"No can do. I already tried to have him released under Alliance authority, but the chief of police wouldn't have it."

"Thats ridiculous, surely Admiral Hackett can,"

"No he can't. Alliance personnel don't have any jurisdiction in police matters. The only way for the Admiral to be able to forcibly have the Commander released would be if he got permission from the Defense Committee. They have the final word on everything."

"And how long will that take?" Joker asked, though he sounded like he already knew the answer.

"Er, I'd say at least three weeks, just to get the meeting." The soldier said sheepishly.

Garrus sighed heavily, Miranda had a blaze of rage despite her calm exterior, and Joker merely rolled his eyes.

"I don't suppose things could get worse?" Joker asked pessimistically.

* * *

><p>"Hey Frank, did you get that raise?" A soldier standing out on the landing zone of the outpost asked his partner.<p>

"With Hackett being the CO here? I have a better chance of getting a Turian to eat my food Bill." Frank replied unhappily.

"Really? But I thought that it was a sure thing since you've put in so many hours on the dock here." Bill told him.

"He fed me some bullshit about working out of duty and responsibility, and that I should be in the front lines putting in 'real work' before I have the audacity to be proud of working overtime here. Grumpy old relic." Frank said.

"Ha, well I guess I can agree with him there. Compared to what some others need to put with, we have it pretty easy here with just checking the ships coming in and out. Speaking of which, here comes two of them now." Bill pointed to two medium sized shuttle craft approaching from the air.

"Shuttle Gamma One, please provide docking clearance." Bill asked through the comm as he looked at his omni tool.

"Come on, don't tell me you actually agree with the Admiral." Frank said.

"Well, he isn't wrong. Shuttle Gamma One, still awaiting docking clearance." Bill said, his omni tool not receiving anything back.

"What do you mean he isn't wrong? Me, you, the others, we deserve fair pay as much as the soldiers fighting offworld!" Frank said to Bill.

"Maybe but, wait a second. Shuttle Gamma One, transfer your docking clearance or you will not be allowed..." Just then Bill's omni tool flashed.

"Finally, what is Tom deaf of something? Shuttle Gamma Two, please provide docking clearance." Bill said, and his omni tool flashed immediately.

"That's more like it. Anyway, yeah we work hard and all, but we aren't really out there fighting the good fight Frank." Bill said as he moved towards the now docked shuttles.

"Hey, we got the same training as those soldiers did, it isn't our fault that we're stationed here." Frank grumbled after Bill.

"If we hadn't been partners for three years now Frank, I might just file for a transfer away from your belly aching. Open up!" Bill knocked on the shuttle door.

"I'm just saying it doesn't seem fair." Frank said as he moved towards the other shuttle to copy his partner.

"I say you should be happy that we are safe here. Hey Tom what was the hold up?" Bill asked as the shuttle door opened.

Inside, ten men wearing black, unmarked armor greeted the surprised and confused Bill.

"Who the hell are..." Bill ate a bullet from the closest man and fell to the ground dead.

"Bill!" Frank yelled as he turned with his pistol drawn.

An arm slid underneath Frank's and bent up to grab the back of his head, throwing off his aim. Another arm went over his shoulder and grabbed his chin. This all happened in less than a second, and with one swift, strong motion, Frank's head was twisted around enough for him to past his shoulder. With the second of life he had left, his eyes saw someone tall yet noticeably slim, and wearing armor that was less bulky than the others but with a prominent left shoulder plate, and colored a dark silver instead of black. He then fell to the ground, dead, his neck not fully twisting back.

Ten men from both shuttles filed off the ships and drew shotguns, assault rifles, and sub machine guns.

"You know the mission. Capture as many of them as you can, kill only those who prove too annoying or troublesome to take down. The Admiral is the priority, he must be taken alive. Shepard's squad members are high value targets, killing them is a last resort. Move." The silver colored man said coolly, emotionless.

The twenty men did as they were ordered, and set out to infiltrate and breach the outpost.

* * *

><p>A kinetic barrier, three walls, a ceiling, and a floor.<p>

_Not even a damn toilet or sink._

Shepard stood in the cell alone with his thoughts. He paced back and forth in the uncomfortably small space in anxiety. The police suspected him in the explosion and the murder of all the people at Alexander's manor. The thought of Alexander made him stop in his tracks, and stand rigidly. Alexander was gone, taken away in a flash of light and flame, now ashes to be blown away with the smallest breeze. It was a fate that made him seem so, insignificant, in the end than he really was. He was a cunning business man, a ruthless killer when he needed to be, a capable and respected leader, a good friend to those he respected...a father figure to Shepard.

A penniless, malnourished, unwanted orphan was all he was, all he would ever be if he had just let Alexander be killed in that alley. He instead became a criminal. A criminal, was that what he really thought of it, or just his real opinions being changed since leaving to join the Alliance and fighting hundreds of criminals who deal in illegal items and activities and kill innocent people who cross them. How many credits worth of drugs, weapons, and tech had he smuggled, delivered and stolen over those years? How many people died because they they tried to fight back, tried to intervene, or were just at the wrong place at the wrong time?

_Too many._

The force field of his cell suddenly deactivated and two policemen entered. They both had pistols at their hips, but Shepard gave them no reason to brandish them. Another cop, burlier than the others, pushed his way past the two and close enough for Shepard to feel his breath. Shepard remembered him as the chief from earlier.

"Alright you scum, lets go."

"Go where exactly? I still haven't been given a chance to explain myself and you haven't given me my one transmission."

"A nice expensive estate gets blown to smithereens along with all the people inside it and we find you, dirty and covered in blood with more guns than a whole squad of my boys just outside the blast zone. You're looking about as guilty as a dog next to a pile shit right now so I wouldn't be worried about any transmission. Now, lets go."

The chief motioned for the two guards to escort Shepard out of the cell. The four of them walked down a hallway passing more cells, most of them either empty or holding a drunken miscreant. It was a stark contrast to the people that were in lower city prisons. Shepard was walked into a room similar to the one that he had interrogated Tyrone in.

"Someone will be by to talk to you shortly."

"I thought you weren't letting people see me?"

"This guy says he has outstanding evidence against you, and that he needs to be sure of who you are. So sit down, shut up, and wait." Said the chief as he left with the others.

Shepard stood alone and examined the room. It was plain, white, had a chair mounted to the wall in front of a transparent mirror. On the other side he could see an identical room. Five minutes had passed until Shepard heard voices on the other side of the door in the room opposite to his. They were hushed voices, but he could make one out to be the chief. Then silence, other than footsteps walking away from the door. A hissing sound came from the door and it parted in the middle, sliding open to the sides. Light escape through the widening crack. The light looked as though it needed to creep around the body of the man standing in it's way. His black armor was a great blot in the middle of the light, and the red lines running all along it gave it a menacing look. He stepped in and the door closed behind him, leaving the dim lighting of the room as the only light source.

"Long time no see." The Informant said to Shepard from the other side of the wall.

Shepard was in full alert. He looked around the room to for any signs of trap placement.

"Calm down, if I wanted to have you killed in here you would have been shot already, or blown to pieces, or burned alive, maybe poisoned, it really depended on my mood and what I happened to have in my pockets at the time." The Informant chuckled at his own humor.

"Well now that we've established you don't want to kill me,"

"Yet." The Informant interrupted abruptly.

Shepard could hear the slight joke in the word, but he doubted that it was just a joke.

"Yet, then why are you meeting me here?"

"I know someone who really wants to talk to you, so I wanted you to be somewhere private. Please, sit."

The Informant sat down in the chair bolted to the wall in front of the see through mirror. Shepard remained standing, uncomfortable with just sitting down with this man. The Informant sat, oddly patient and quiet. Shepard could feel his gaze from beneath that wicked looking helmet.

"You know, when someone sits down to have a conversation with someone else, the polite thing is to sit down so you are at eye level." The Informant gestured with an open palm to the other chair.

Shepard looked at the chair and the Informant, and finally sat down. It was hardly an eye level conversation with the Informant being four inches taller.

"Comfortable?" The Informant asked.

"Not in the least." Shepard replied.

"That's too bad. Now I've got someone who really has worked hard just to have a conversation with you. So it would mean a lot to me if you were respectful in his presence."

Shepard glanced around both of the rooms for others.

"It's hard for me to disrespect someone who isn't here."

The Informant produced a round, flat device. He placed it on the counter and pressed the button, making the top open and a hologram start projecting.

"Hello Shepard." General Zakman said through the hologram.

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting." Shepard said with mock politeness.

"And you can thank whatever beings you wish for that. No, we have not met in person, but we've both been witnesses to each others work."

"Really?"

"Indeed. The events on the asteroid are perhaps the most, damaging, to me personally. Wouldn't you agree Balak?"

Another hologram appeared beside Zakman's, and Shepard recognized it instantly.

"I was wondering when I would find you again Balak."

"I've found you Shepard. I've also found some things of yours. Have you shown him the recording yet?" Balak asked the Informant.

"Not yet, I thought it would be better if the two of you were here as well. Pay attention, I'm sure this will look familiar to you." The Informant told Shepard.

He activated his omni tool and a video recording popped up and played. Shepard was chilled to the core, recognizing it instantly.

* * *

><p><em>Two hours ago.<em>

Jacob fired his scimitar at the two militiamen, forcing them behind the wall into cover. Behind him, Legion overloaded the shields of another, making him retreat.

"Operative Taylor, we recommend relocating to a more defensible position or risk being overwhelmed." Legion said calmly despite the words.

"I think you're right Legion, fall back down the corridor!"

The man and geth hurried down the corridor with more hostiles coming down after them. Jacob raised a barrier and Legion boosted his shields. The defense worked well until the militiamen switched to disruptor ammo. Legion's shields were compromised, and Jacob put himself between the bullets and the geth. Jacob's barrier was falling quickly underneath the shots and he struggled to maintain it.

"Back it up!" Zaeed shouted from behind them at the end of the corridor.

The mercenary hurled one of his inferno grenades down the corridor at the five militiamen and it exploded, drenching that part of the hall in flames. One of the enemies was engulfed immediately in fire, and the others were cut off and forced to find a way around.

"Thanks for that Zaeed, you saved our asses." Jacob said as he dropped his barrier.

"Yes." Legion added.

"I've got a feeling you're gonna have a chance to pay me back, come on." The old merc ordered.

The three of them continued down the corridor towards the common room.

* * *

><p>"These guys aren't just thugs with guns; these guys have some good training." Garrus said to no one in particular.<p>

"Indeed it likely they are a mercenary group hired by the leaders of those that Shepard has been…" Mordin began.

"Less talking, more fucking shooting!" Jack shouted.

The three of them were holding their own against eight of the attackers. They were in the lobby of the outpost, and cover was scarce. What's worse, the attackers were coming in through the hallway and the entrance both.

"Dammit, we need to regroup with the others, we're too exposed." Garrus as he blew open the head of one enemy with his mattock.

"Agreed. Jack, when I give the signal use your shockwave." Mordin told her.

"What signal?" Jack asked.

Mordin used his cryo blast on the enemies blocking the way back into the outpost. Four of the six men froze in place, the other two fell back as frost began to form on them. Jack realized what the signal was, and she sent a shockwave towards the frozen, and fragile, enemies. The force shattered them to pieces and blasted the two unfrozen men off their feet.

'Down the hall, to the common room!" Garrus ordered them.

The three of them ran past the two downed men and the pieces of the four others towards the rally point. The men blocking the entrance to the outpost followed them in, cutting off their escape.

* * *

><p>Samara and Miranda used their shuriken's to pin down the three men on the left. Thane used his viper to shoot down the right hallway, keeping two men there at bay. Grunt fortified his armor and stood directly in the middle of the central hall, firing his claymore at more enemies. The four of them were at a four way intersection of the corridors, with the one leading to the common room being clear.<p>

"Don't let any of them through!" Miranda shouted.

"It's getting hard not to!" Thane said, killing one of the militia.

"Let them come, this great!" Grunt shouted.

"Grunt take cover!" Samara told the krogan.

"I can handle it." Grunt said as he advanced down the hall towards the militia.

Grunt was close to the other end of the hall with the militia when a new enemy, this one wearing dark silver armor, came around the corner with a flame thrower. Grunt was covered in flames and even he couldn't withstand it. His armor was compromised by the fire and he couldn't see through the flames. Suddenly the flames died down and three men were beating Grunt with shock batons. Each hard hit sent an electrical shock through his body. Grunt gritted his teeth and roared against the pain, charging into the attackers. The other two men from around the corner came out with more batons and beat Grunt into submission.

"Increase the electric output, put him to sleep." The silver clad man ordered.

Within seconds, Grunt was shocked into unconsciousness. One of the baton wielding men was shot in the chest from down the hall. The silver clad man turned to see Thane aiming down the hall with his viper. He pulled two tempest sub machine guns from his back and fired them. Thane was forced to take cover again.

"Move up." He told the others.

"Grunt is down." Thane told Miranda.

"We can't help him here, we need to fall back."

"We can't just leave him there!" Samara said.

"We won't be able to help him if we're dead." Miranda retorted.

_We need Shepard here. _Miranda thought.

The air next to Thane rippled and then Kasumi appeared out of thin air.

"I have an idea." She said.

"Anything would be good right now." Thane commented as he shot down the shields of an advancing enemy.

"You three lure them down there towards the common room and I'll cloak and sneak behind them. Once they are far enough away I'll help Grunt."

"Can you handle it?" Miranda asked.

"We don't have much choice do we?" Kasumi said before cloaking again.

The three of them went along with her plan, and they retreated towards the common room. The militia chased after them, leaving only their leader and Grunt there. Kasumi, still cloaked crept towards the unconscious Grunt. The man in silver armor didn't even stir, he hadn't noticed her. He just continued to bind Grunt's hands together with a reinforced lock. She charged up her stealth attack and prepared to shove her hand into his back.

"One, two, three." He whispered.

He turned and caught Katsumi's hand out of the air. Her cloak disengaged and her surprised face showed perfectly. He turned hand back on it's owner, touching Katsumi's attack to the top of her breast and sending a surge of electricity into her. She slumped into him, unconscious. He laid her down carefully and bound her hands as well. He then activated his commlink.

"Bring in the dropship."

* * *

><p>"Stay down Joker!" Hackett told the pilot.<p>

"I am dammit, I am!" Joker replied.

The two of them, four Alliance soldiers, and the rest of Shepard's squad were all in the common room, taking cover behind drink counters and overturned tables.

"Who the hell are these guys?" Joker asked.

"It doesn't matter, just put them down." Hackett said, firing his carnifex.

Twelve of the attackers remained, firing at all of them. Miranda continued to fire at one of them, hating herself. They had all gathered in here, no way out, plenty of ways in. They were surrounded by capable enemies. Shepard would never have let this happen while he was leading.

The thought of Shepard distracted her. If these people were willing to attack an Alliance outpost to get them, what would've stopped them from getting to Shepard in jail? Her thoughts were interrupted by the ceiling being blown wide open. Debris rained down on them, and the cool night air flooded in. In the air, Miranda saw a drop ship hovering above them. Lights shined down upon them from it, painting them brightly. A loading ramp opened up and three men carrying grenade launchers peered out. They fired, not grenades, but canisters full of gas. The gas started to fill the space and they all felt the effects.

"We need to get out of here!" Miranda shouted.

It was already too late. Jack, being the closest to one of the canisters, succumbed the quickest to the knock out gas. Jacob, Samara, and Zaeed fell shortly after. The three Alliance soldiers also choked into unconsciousness. Miranda held her breath and took short breaths. She was forced to fall back towards Garrus, Joker, Hackett, and Legion.

Thane was on the other end of the room, cut off from the others. He had run out of ammo and was fighting hand to hand, taking people by surprise. He had killed two men before he encountered the silver armored man.

"Why do you persist? You've all lost yet." He said, almost sounding bored.

"We're still alive, aren't we." Thane asked rhetorically.

"I'm not here to kill you, just catch you."

"Then come get me." Thane said.

The leader of the militia left his tempests holstered and engaged Thane hand to hand. Thane had never encountered anyone who could challenge like this until now. The leader was just as faster, maybe faster, just as strong, almost stronger, and he had armor, which Thane didn't. Each hit was harder on him, and each hit he landed was softened. Thane used something that the other man didn't have. He laced his fist in biotic power and threw the leader into a wall. He slumped against it, but he just pointed to a spot at Thane's feet. A proximity mine.

Thane turned and ran with as much strength as he could. The explosion still lifted him into the air and back onto the ground, unconscious.

Hackett, Garrus, Miranda, Legion and Joker were all that remained. Everyone else had fallen to the gas.

"Operative Lawson, we have a solution." Legion said.

"What is it Legion?" Miranda asked.

"We detect something on the enemy drop ship that may be useful in our escape. Please hold."

Legion's minds routed to an open system on the drop ship, and took control. This system had two arms, two legs, a head, and a body. Legion walked it off the drop ship, into the air, and it landed onto the ground with a loud thud. The YMIR mech stood to it's full height and activated its weapons and started fighting all the militia.

"Nice work Legion!" Garrus shouted.

"Acknowledged." Legion stated.

"Enough patting ourselves on the back, Legion, aim that thing at this wall here." Hackett ordered.

The YMIR mech turned and shot two rockets at the wall behind them, knocking it down to reveal the outside.

"Everyone out!" Hackett shouted.

Miranda, Legion, and Garrus carrying Joker sprinted out of the opening. Hackett fired his weapon at some militia before trying to back pedal out. He fell to the ground as two bullets flew through each of his knees. Miranda saw him and stopped running.

"Go, go!" Hackett told her.

Reluctantly, Miranda did as she was told and escaped into the darkness. Hackett turned to see a man in silver armor approach him, dual tempests smoking in the night air. He guessed where the shots came from. The YMIR mech finally fell to the shots from the militia in the room and the heavy artillery from the dropship.

Hackett was bound and dragged back into the destroyed common room. He was lined up next to Grunt, Kasumi, Jacob, Zaeed, Thane, Samara, Jack, Mordin, and the three living Alliance soldiers. The silver armored man was talking on his intercom.

"We've captured the majority of them. The pilot, Turian, Geth, and Cerberus woman escaped."

"What about the Admiral?" A voice replied loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Subdued, along with three soldiers."

"There weren't any other soldiers." The raspy voice said back.

He took out one of his tempest and shot all three of the soldiers in the head without a second thought, without a pause.

"You're right. I'll load these ones up and have them shipped to the drop off point."

"My employers will be so happy. Nice work Damien."

* * *

><p><em>End of Recording<em>

The entire scene and the last word made Shepard feel sick. Damien. Damien was involved too. He worried for the safety of his friends.

"Your friends arrived here a short time ago. They've settled in nicely." General Zakman's hologram said.

"You didn't get all of them." Shepard said defiantly.

"In due time Shepard. In due time. No one close to you will escape the punishment you and Hackett have coming to you. The loss the Batarian's have suffered will not go unpunished." The holograms disappeared, leaving Shepard and the Informant alone.

"Why?" Shepard asked.

"Hmm?" The Informant asked.

"Why are you working with them? What is in this for you?"

"Professional reasons, personal reasons. People don't forget things. They may bury them, but they don't forget." The Informant stood and left, leaving Shepard alone again.

The Informant walked to the chief's office and presented the burly man with another five thousand credits.

"Transfer him to the maximum security prison, Z-21." He ordered the chief.

* * *

><p><em>Prison Z-21<em>

"Prepare a cell in the solitary confinement levels. I just got word that someone really dangerous is coming to stay." The warden told the secretary.

"I'll get right on it." She replied.

"And update this prisoner's record. We just stuck fifty more murders on him." The warden handed her a file.

"This has to be a record." She said in bewilderment and disgust.

She put the information into her computer.

_Prisoner name: Macarthur, Sean_

_Prisoner description: Heavily tattooed, 414lbs, 7'9 tall_

_Crime: Convicted of gang activity and the 573 murders_

_Sentence: Life imprisonment_


	12. Shark in the Water: Bear's Cave

_Like I said, the shit hit the fan last chapter. Shepard is on his way to a maximum security prison where one of his old comrades in the Reds, Sean Macarthur is incarcerated. Also, nearly all the members of Shepard's squad and Hackett were abducted in an attack on the Alliance outpost by another old Reds acquaintance of Shepard's, the cold Damien. Garrus, Miranda, Legion, and Joker are all on the run and Shepard must start to face demons from his past._

* * *

><p>"Right this way General." Balak said as he hurried to open the door into the holding cells area.<p>

"I know where the holding cells are Balak." General Zakman stated condescendingly.

"I, yes of course General." Balak said meekly.

Upon entering, the five guards snapped to attention immediately. He ignored all five of them and focused his attention on the human inspecting the cells. He had never seen this human before.

"And who are you?" General Zakman asked the silver armored man.

"Damien Crenshaw. Who are you?" Damien asked casually.

"Who the hell do you think you are to address the General like this human?" Balak fumed.

"Like I said, Damien Crenshaw. I don't know who you are either." Damien replied, angering Balak even more.

"Well then Mr. Crenshaw…" General Zakman began.

"Damien is fine." Damien interjected.

"Well then Damien, what are you doing on my ship?"

"Making a delivery." He gestured to the formerly vacant, now full, cells.

The General inspected all the cells now filled Shepard's squad members.

"One krogan, one quarian, one salarian, one drell, one asari, four humans." Zakman counted aloud.

"If you are who I think you are, I was told you would be happy." Damien said, not really caring if he was happy.

"And who do you think I am?"

"My friend's employer."

"Am I not your employer as well, if you are working for me?"

"I'm not working for you." Damien stated matter of factly.

"Oh?" Zakman said, keeping a much more level head than Balak, who was growing more irate by the second.

"Your Informant hired me on out of his own pocket."

"Why would he trust you with a task as vital as this?" Balak asked.

"Because he knows I can get it done." Damien said somewhat intensely, yet showing more emotion than normal for him.

"Can you? You are still short two humans, a turian, and a geth. Not to mention the real prize, Shepard." Zakman stated.

"We are in the process of tracking those four down; I'm heading back to Earth now to do just that. And we have Shepard; he just doesn't know it yet. You can probably expect a progress report from your Informant soon." Damien said before stepping past Balak and Zakman.

"Oh, and beg your pardon General." Damien said without turning, and he saluted lazily as he left.

"You should have had that disrespectful runt killed sir." Balak said.

"In due time Balak, in due time. He has gotten us the majority of Shepard's crew and Admiral Hackett though, I'll give him that. But still, I don't like this. We were told about those other ones, what were their names? Ah yes, Tyrone, Marcus, and Rico. I don't like that this Damien was brought it without my knowing about it."

"Would you have me take action sir?" Balak asked.

"Not quite. I want you to take a small group of men to Earth. Find Shepard, find his remaining shipmates, and find the Informant."

"Yes sir."

Balak's anger subsided, replaced by cruel and vengeful anticipation.

* * *

><p>"Hey beautiful, you come here often?"<p>

_Oh for fuck sake._

Miranda thought this as the presumably drunken, perverted looking man swaggered his way up to her. Garrus, Legion, Joker and herself had hopped on a shuttle into the Lower city and gotten lost in the crowd in this outdoor market. She was really regretting it now.

"Not much of a talker, that's good, I don't like mouthy women." The drunk hiccupped.

_You better hurry up in there Garrus._

"Mmmm. Listen, why don't I show you my…." The drunk tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground.

Miranda let out a steady breath, the drunk's own poor constitution had saved him from a world of hurt. He slept on the ground for about five minutes, with hundreds of passerby who were probably accustomed to such things stepping over him like he were garbage until a security guard came and dragged him off and out of sight.

"Alright, were down." Garrus said, stepping out of the shop he had been in.

"You three were in there for fifteen minutes, what took so long?" Miranda asked.

"Do you know how hard it is to dress a him? His figure isn't exactly meant for these clothes." Joker said as he stepped out with a hooded figure.

This hooded figure wore a loose jacket and sweater, baggy construction pants, size sixteen construction boots, and gloves tucked into the sleeves. Two fingers on each glove hung loosely.

"This platform was not meant to be disguised this way." Legion stated.

"Come on Legion, I think it is a good look for you. You could start a new fashion trend with the geth." Joker stated.

"Geth do not have fashion trends. Geth do not wear clothes." Legion sounded about as annoyed as a machine can be.

"You need to be disguised Legion. Having a geth with us will make us stand out too much. We need to stay incognito." Miranda said.

"Speaking of stating incognito, is there anyway you can reduce you're, um…" Garrus asked and gestured to his own face.

Legion seemed to get the hint. The light from his 'head' dimmed considerably, to the point that it barely illuminated the inside of the hood.

"That's better, but you should still try to avoid notice. We all should." Miranda said.

"It looks like we aren't doing a very good job right now." Garrus said.

Miranda gave him a quizzical look. He gestured with a subtle head nod to a dark corner, perhaps three shops down from them. In those shadows leaned a tall, heavily built man. He was obscured by all the passerby, but Garrus's keen eye picked him out. He was staring at them, studying them.

Miranda felt stupid and it infuriated her. She hadn't even noticed him. How long was he there?

"Come on, we need to move." Miranda said quietly.

The four of them, slowed down considerably because of Joker, left to go farther into the marketplace. They felt the curious stares of the crowds of people, but none of them seemed to care enough to pursue it. To Garrus's relief, he was not the only non-human aside from Legion in the area. He counted at least two salarians, a turian, and three asari. The Reds presence seemed to be minimal here, because these aliens were conversing with humans and buying goods like it were the Citadel. He imagined that Shepard's assault on the Reds base had contributed to this.

"Miranda, he is still following us." Garrus said.

"I know." Miranda said without turning.

Miranda led them out of the marketplace and onto the main street. From there they slipped into a dark, dirty looking alleyway.

"Joker go hide around the corner!" Miranda ordered the pilot.

"Jeez, make me sound even more insignificant will you." Joker said sarcastically as he left.

"Legion, behind there." Miranda pointed to a large waste disposal bin.

"Acknowledged."

"Garrus, in here." She showed him the space in the wall where a door was."

"Where are you going?" Garrus asked as he got into position.

"I'm going to wait until our stalker comes out and lead him here." Miranda said as she walked out of the alley.

She walked around the front of some houses and shops, trying not to look too suspicious and keeping an eye out for the man who was spying on them. It had been about fifteen minutes and he still hadn't showed up. Had they lost him?

Miranda felt a hot breath on her neck, blowing a stand of her hair over. Then she felt something hard press into her back.

"Turn around, do it like you know me." A man's voice told here.

Miranda forced herself to turnaround casually, the pistol's barrel now facing her abdomen. The man was definitely tall, definitely muscular, had a low buzz cut hairdo, and his face had a scar running from the top of his right eyebrow crossing down his eyelid, the bridge of his nose, and ending at his jaw. Another scar running sideways on his neck splintered into three branches in the middle. His skin was a motley grayish white. His eyes stood out the most, the irises being a dull gray and both eyes being incredibly bloodshot, despite him not looking tired.

"You are Miranda Lawson, yes?"

"My name is Miranda. Can I ask who you are?"

The man holstered his pistol, much to Miranda's surprise.

"Private Jerrod Kilik. Alliance Navy Commando."

"You are with the Alliance?"

Private Kilik activated his omni tool and an Alliance dossier with his name and picture appeared.

"I am. I've been looking for you, all of you." Private Kilik gestured to the alley way where Garrus, Joker, and Legion awaited.

"If you are with the Alliance, then you know what happened at the outpost?" Miranda asked hopefully.

Kilik merely nodded.

"Then you can get help us! You can get Commander Shepard out of prison."

Kilik shook his head, no.

"That's why I was trying to find you four. I need **your **help."

"What? Why?"

"When the brass sent me my unit to investigate the outpost, I found a recoverable video feed detailing the majority of the attack. I presented it to my CO and he confiscated it from me. Later, I found the same recording with the rest of the evidence wiped clean. The Alliance has a mole among them."

"How can you be sure of that? What purpose would that serve?"

"Admiral Hackett was captured in the attack as well. It is no secret that Hackett worked extensively with Shepard while he hunted for Saren. The majority of Shepard's team was captured as well, and Shepard has just essentially destroyed a batarian system. Since that event transpired, five outposts in Alliance space have been attacked by batarian extremists."

"You think someone on the inside is aiding the extremists?"

"All five of those off world outposts had early warning satellites that would've alerted them to the batarians. Each of those respective satellites was found disabled with an Alliance kill code. Someone is aiding these fanatics from the Alliance, and I think Shepard and Hackett are primary targets right now. Hackett because he holds such a high rank in the Alliance, and Shepard for the obvious."

"But Shepard is in prison, how can he be a target, unless…."

"He was moved there intentionally. Shepard isn't safe and we need to get him out. I can't turn to the Alliance for this without risking tipping off whoever the mole is. Technically speaking, I'm a deserter right now for leaving and coming to find you."

"Why do you care so much?" Miranda asked suspiciously.

"Why should I not? I have a duty to the Alliance and to Earth, I've seen first hand what these fanatics can do, and I know Shepard is a target but also crucial to stopping them and getting your people back. I did some digging and found out that the one who lead the attacks on those other five outposts was the wanted terrorist, Balak."

"The batarian that tried to crash an asteroid into a colony that Shepard thwarted?"

"The very same. If he is involved, then Shepard will be invaluable in taking him down. It will also likely get him some leeway at that trial."

Miranda had almost forgotten about Shepard's trial with all that had happened. The memory of it put a damper on the already piss poor situation.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Private Kilik said, with real concern by the sound of it.

"Don't be sorry, it is unavoidable really. But if we are going to come up with a plan, we should really be having this conversation with the others." Miranda gestured to the alley where the others awaited.

"Maybe you should go first, I got a feeling it would be a bad first impression if I had to beat them up because they tried to jump me." Private Kilik chuckled.

Miranda, despite herself, shared the brief laugh.

* * *

><p><em>Prisoner # 3447 John Shepard<em>

This is what was written on the back of Shepard's prisoner uniform. His armor and weapons had been confiscated and placed 'evidence', which meant that the guards kept it for themselves. He was sure that he saw the cafeteria guard carrying his phalanx. He had been here for just over a day, but it felt like an eternity. He had been placed in solitary confinement. For this prison, that was something to be said. This was prison X-12, the most secure maximum security prison in the country. Some of the most dangerous criminals the Alliance has caught were incarcerated here. And he was labeled among the worst of them.

He felt lonely. That was to be expected in solitary confinement, sure enough, but he had grown accustomed to having people around him to some capacity. He missed Kelly reminding that he had a new message, the banter of crewman Hadley, Joker's wit and EDI's insight. He wanted to walk back into the armory to see Jacob meticulously organizing all their weapons, finding Mordin hard at work on something in the science lab, Garrus never being satisfied with the calibrations of the thanix cannon, Miranda sitting in her office…

How she would be typing on her terminal, reading silently and typing without a focused expression. The way she would cock her eyes, even the few times she wore her combat visor over them, at him as if she had not noticed him, though he knew that she would have heard the door begin to slide open immediately. That smile, the thin but expressive smile that would form across her full lips as she leaned slightly and crossed her arms on the desk. And that voice….

"_Commander, what can I do for you?"_

She would ask this, still referring to him as Commander even in the privacy of her room. Her formality, it wasn't a tease, it was her personality. It was her desire for organization, and her respect of his position. What it was not was her cold, Cerberus leader persona that she had kept up for so long. Dammit he missed her.

The darkness of Shepard's cell increased ten fold. He missed her, missed all of them, missed society.

_Damn, I've been in here for not even two days and I'm already going nuts! _Shepard thought to himself.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't been without some form of companionship since before he joined with the Reds. Even when first joining the Alliance he had the other cadets, such as Toombs. When he was living at the orphanage, the woman in charge was drunk off her rocker most of the time. The other orphans, well there weren't many, perhaps seven. He avoided all of them. Meeting Alexander in that alley gave him a life full of friendship and, happiness? Friends like Tyrone and Marcus, Rico and Damien. Friends that he had now watched die, who were now harming those he loved. And happiness was he really happy then? Did the stealing, cheating, extorting, drugs, women, money, and killing make him happy? Did leading his men make him happy, having those criminals look up to him as their leader, their protector, their trustworthy friend?

What parts of the walls Shepard could make out in the darkness seemed to close in on him. His breathing became more agitated, his fists clenched tightly and he ground his teeth. He now knew why he was drawn to people. Without others, he was forced to look at himself, and he didn't like what he saw.

* * *

><p>Damien dragged the body of the guard into the storage room and locked it. He adjusted the belt to keep his pants up; this guard had about thirty more pounds of gut than him. He proceeded through the prison, passing by unsuspecting prisoners and guards alike.<p>

"We're still on for drinks after our shift Watson?" Another guard asked from the catwalk overseeing the gym. Damien waved his hand in reply and kept moving.

He reached the elevator to the lower levels and pushed the button for the solitary confinement level. It was two floors down. It took about thirty seconds to travel between floors. One minute. Damien got really annoyed on the inside when the elevator stopped on one floor and another guard stepped in.

"Hey Watson, do you think you can take my shift tonight? It's my daughter's sweet sixteen and…. wait who are you?"

Damien, without turning to him, kicked the guard in the side of his knee, collapsing his leg. As the guard went to his knees, Damien pulled his head back and delivered a crushing blow to his windpipe. The man gurgled for a second before dying.

"I'll need to store this one somewhere when the elevator stops." Damien said as he tapped his foot for the last ten seconds.

The sign read solitary confinement and the elevator door opened. A guard reading a data pad waited on the other side. Before he could look up, Damien punched him to the ground. He then kicked him in his ribs to put him on his back. To finish him off, Damien raised his leg and stomped on his head. The guard's entire body jerked from the impact.

"I'll need to hide this one as well."

Damien noticed a large waste bin nearby, probably the waste bin for the entire floor. He dumped both bodies into it and activated the terminal for this floor. He used it to look through the inmates put in solitary confinement.

_Prisoner # 512 Mathew Smith_

_Height: 5'8_

_Weight: 176 lbs_

_Crime: convicted of 232 counts of rape of women, children, and men._

_Prisoner # 795 Charles Smith_

_Height: 5'11_

_Weight: 156 lbs_

_Crime: convicted of stealing 32 millions credits from three different firms_

_Prisoner # 3447 John Shepard_

_Height: 6'3_

_Weight: 210 lbs_

_Crime: convicted of arson and murder. Current number of victims unknown, awaiting further evidence. Scheduled for a trial in the case of _[Information Withheld.]

Damien lingered on that one for awhile longer. He was still surprised that Shepard was caught. Of course, after that was what was planned to happen after detonating the bombs at Alexander's estate, but he still figured Shepard would've fought his way out.

"You've lost your touch John." Damien said to himself.

He scrolled through eight more listed prisoners before he found the one he was looking for.

_Prisoner #2187 Sean Macarthur_

The screen read that Sean was held in cell G8. Damien walked past plenty of other cells where snarls, ramblings, and curses of twisted and violent men. He yawned; he hadn't been getting much sleep. He finally came to cell G8 and opened it up. To his admitted surprise, steel bars were in place. These cells seemed to be older than the others, unless the warden felt that metal bars worked more to sap the will of the prisoners than colorful kinetic barriers. Damien stepped close to the bars and peered into the darkness. He saw nothing.

"Macarthur." Damien said.

Silence.

"Answer me Macarthur."

"Go away pig, I don't have anything to say to you." A deep, almost growling voice replied through the darkness of the cell.

"I think of myself as more of a shark, you overgrown bear." Damien replied.

No words came back initially, but Damien picked up the intensified breathing of something and the creaking of a bed.

"Damien?"

"Sean." Damien replied flatly.

The creaking sound increased when Damien noticed something move in the darkness. It got closer and grew bigger with each step. It resembled a good sized man giving another a piggy back ride. Damien found himself looking up into the face of Sean Macarthur. What skin was visible beneath the tattoos was deathly pale from the lack of sunlight. His hair looked like it always had, shaved at the sides with a row of it running from the front to the back of his neck.

"You look, well, Sean. I see those genetic enhancements stuck rather well. What were you before them? 7'4, 356 lbs?" Damien asked nonchalantly.

"350 lbs, thank you." Sean replied.

Sean had always been a freak of nature. He wasn't even afflicted with gigantism, he just grew to 7'4 naturally. The bulk was a combination of that same genetic blessing and a diet of a **lot **of food. He also hit the gym every now and then before as well. Damien remembered when they had got their hands on some Alliance contraband and Sean had had the genetic enhancements performed on him. A licensed doctor hadn't performed the operation of course, so some side effects occurred. Namely, growing five inches and putting on around fifty pounds of raw muscle.

"I really hope you aren't a guard here now Damien, you aren't suited for the job."

"Tell me about it. I'm not looking for a job; I was looking for you Sean."

"Really? Where were you looking, because I haven't been anywhere else but here for seven years!" Sean said in an surprise burst of anger.

"I see all that time to yourself hasn't done anything for your temper."

"What the hell do you want?" Sean asked.

"I've got an offer you can't refuse."

"I can't refuse it eh? This isn't like old times when you gave orders only when you were allowed to Damien."

Damien let his fury slip through when he let his eye twitch at that comment.

"I've got an offer that you won't want to refuse then."

"Really?"

Sean's arm went through the space in the bars faster than would be expected of someone his size. His huge hand wrapped around Damien's throat, and Damien was subsequently lifted into the air, face to face with Sean.

"Really." Damien said calmly, despite Sean's tightening grip.

"Why would I trust you?" Sean asked.

"I don't know, why would you?" Damien replied smugly.

Sean growled and tightened his grip more. Damien stared directly into his eyes, his tattooed face looking even more fearsome because of the ink.

"But trust me when I tell you this. John is here."

Sean's eyes widened as questioning amazement washed over him.

"What?" He asked.

"Why don't I tell you everything at ground level?" Damien asked.

Sean lowered Damien to the ground and released him, kneeling down himself.

"Now pay attention, you've missed a lot."

* * *

><p>Miranda turned over another pile of charred walling to search beneath it.<p>

"Nothing. You find anything Garrus?"

Garrus stood up from where the pool of the estate likely once was.

"Nope." He replied.

The two of them along with Legion, Joker, and Private Kilik had come to this blown up wreck of an estate to look for evidence of a lead that Kilik wanted to pursue. Joker insisted upon flying the hovercraft, and was docked several yards away. The other four had come here to search the rumble.

"This is the place for which Shepard was arrested under the suspicion of arson and murder. If my hunch is correct, he was framed." Kilik told them.

"And if your hunch is wrong?" Garrus asked.

"It hasn't been yet." Kilik replied with a slight smile.

Garrus chuckled at this. He was initially weary of this man, but he seemed to be genuine. He was informed and had drive. He reminded Garrus of Shepard, oddly enough.

"Kilik Private, we have located something of interest." Legion said from the bottom of a crater.

Kilik, Miranda, and Garrus slid down into the crater to find Legion holding a large piece of dented, burnt metal.

"This is exactly what we were looking for Legion." Kilik said, taking the metal.

"Can you elaborate?" The synthetic asked.

"Those attacks on the other bases, they all had remains of the same munitions, this one. This was used primarily by the batarian military before they left the Citadel." Kilik explained.

"So these fanatics are backed by the military?" Garrus asked.

"Just a splinter group of the military more likely." Miranda answered.

"I think you are right Miranda. This proves that whoever has been attacking the Alliance off world also attacked here…."

"Alert! We have intercepted communications from an approaching drop ship. Recommend battle preparations." Legion said.

"Up top, now!" Kilik ordered.

The four of them reached the top of the crater to see the drop ship land. It was the same one present at the attack on the outpost when everyone was captured. Stepping off of it was ten batarian's.

"Kill all of them!" Balak shouted as he drew his rifle.

Cover was very scarce for the group of four. To try and get out of the crater now was suicide. The batarians used the destroyed remains of walls and beams to hide behind as they advanced on the crater. Bullets slammed into the dirt rim of the crater, forcing the four defenders down.

"I don't know how we'll get out of this one." Garrus said.

"Well we can't make a run for it, they got us surrounded." Miranda added.

"Legion, can you boost your shield over all of us?" Kilik asked Legion.

"Yes, but a distributed shield will not last long under this much fire." Legion replied.

"Just do it, I got an idea."

One of the batarian attackers approached the rim of the crater. He peered around to see six of his comrades doing the same. They all peered over to see the four defenders with shields. As they shot down into the crater, a small object was thrown into the air by the male human. The batarian followed it with his gaze until it exploded into a blinding light. He brought his hand to his eyes and could continue to hear the gunshots. He felt stupid, his comrades hadn't looked as he had and were not blinded and continued to fire at the defenders, no doubt killing them. When his vision finally cleared, he opened his eyes to stare down the barrel of the pistol of the human who threw the flashbang.

Kilik shot the batarian in the face and purple blood splattered onto him a little. The six others who had also surrounded the crater were also dead, because they had indeed been blinded. Garrus and Legion flushed two more out of cover and cut them down.

"That's nine, where is the tenth one?" Miranda asked.

She didn't notice the batarian coming out of cover behind here. Kilik sprinted with all his energy and reached Miranda, placing himself between her and the attacker. Two shots hit him, one in the shoulder, one in the ribs, before he was able to shoot the attacker in the shoulder, disarming him. Kilik shot again, this time in his leg. He approached the kneeling batarian and placed his pistol to his head.

"Get it over with human." Balak spat to Kilik.

Kilik shot Balak in the head. Balak's lifeless body slumped, but still remained in the kneeling position that it was in.

"You've been hit Kilik!" Miranda exclaimed worriedly.

"I'm fine, really."

"Like hell you are your bleeding." Miranda placed her hand over his wound.

Kilik used his omni tool to apply some medi gel.

"There, all better."

"But.." Miranda began.

"Call your pilot. We've got things to do." Kilik cut in sharply.

Miranda wanted to protest more, but something in Kilik's eyes told her that he wasn't about to drop everything over a gunshot wound. It was something Shepard would do.

"Thank, Private Kilik." Miranda said quietly.

"Your welcome." Kilik replied.

Miranda really didn't expect him to hear her. She left to join Garrus and Legion as she called Joker for a pickup. Kilik remained behind a little bit longer. He stared at the lifeless body of Balak, blood pouring from the head and down the torso to the ground.

"It looks like we owe your people ten more lives now."


	13. Snake Strike

Shepard brought up the mental diagram he had made before being locked up in here. He had to make some adjustments of course. Firstly, the line connecting the Informant to his previously unknown employers now ended with the two batarians, Balak and General Zakman. Also, another line branching off from the Informant once again ended with Damien Crenshaw. That Damien was working with Zakman and Balak stung Shepard more than he liked. He could stomach the idea of Tyrone and Rico easier. Tyrone was always cowardly and easily swayed by those who could offer him a better deal, and Rico was greedy enough to sell his allegiance. Marcus, despite everything, was loyal to the very end, the bitter end.

Damien was, different, than those three. He wasn't anywhere near as friendly as Marcus, or at least he never really attempted to make that connection. He was ice cold, always. Shepard wasn't sure if he ever remembered Damien smiling, or being angry. He either never felt it or was very good at hiding it. The only times he really had anything other than a strict, monotone demeanor was when he utilized his biting sarcasm and condescending, subtly confrontational wit. That being said, he wasn't ever quite the scum bag that Tyrone and Rico were. A career criminal most definitely, but he wasn't so blindly ambitious that he made the stupid mistakes others did. Shepard wasn't sure what Damien's motives were. He didn't care about anything, wasn't affected by anything. All he did was focus on the task at hand and do it efficiently and effectively. It is what made him such a good second in command.

**Bang! Bang! Bang! **

"I know you're in there. It's Damien."

_Speak of the devil._

Shepard stood next to the steel door separating him and Damien, their words passing through it. Shepard wondered if the door was too thick for him to break down.

"You son of a bitch, you better pray I don't get out of here." Shepard said angrily.

"You know I'm not the praying type John. And if I was, I wouldn't pray that you would be stuck in here. I need you to complete the set."

"Complete the set? Those are people you're talking about, not playthings!"

"They are just valuables to be delivered. And you are one of the last ones we need."

"One of the last ones?"

"You've got quite a resourceful gang now John. That drell was particularly troublesome. And that women, the cute one with the accent, she handled herself well in your absence."

"You'll regret letting them escape. They'll help me and then all of us will get Hackett and the others back from your batarian handlers and that man always in his armor."

"The four of them escaping was a minor setback, but it'll set itself right soon enough. I don't even need to do anything I'm counting on the competence of your shipmates." Damien said with the closest thing to amusement that Shepard had ever seen in him.

Shepard thought about his words for a moment, and dread overtook him instantly.

"You had me sent her deliberately! You are going to use me as bait for the others and then take us all back to General Zakman for execution."

"Well, you and Admiral Hackett are the only ones that are definitely slated for execution. Understandable I suppose. The others though, I don't know about them. They may just kill the turian and the Cerberus woman outright, they are too much trouble. The geth may be valuable; the pilot is just dead wait, so he'll be fed to the varren probably. I wager all the others will fetch a good price on the slave market."

That Damien spoke about this so casually angered Shepard to no end. He found himself pushing his fist against the metal door that he started pushing himself back. He wanted to break this door down, to get on the other side and shut Damien up. He wanted out, he wanted to see light other than the faint glow from his abnormal scars, he wanted to get his crew back, and he wanted this all to end!

"You know how those batarians are."

Shepard heard it. The change in the tone, however slight, the way Damien said it. Even though they were on opposite sides of a great metal door, Shepard was sure Damien had stood and faced it directly, like he was accusing him of something. Shepard was shocked by himself; he felt his anger change into guilt. The two of them didn't exchange words for a few moments, but Shepard could almost feel him on the other side.

Why did he feel like he owed Damien an explanation? Why the hell would he try to do it now of all times? Was it because he had let Damien, and all the others, go on for so long without one?

"Why are you doing this Damien?" Shepard asked in an almost defeated tone.

"Why did you do what you did on Mindoir all those years ago?" Damien replied.

"Because what we were doing there was wrong, and you know it."

"Please, you presume too much John. You think I don't care about anything, don't feel anything. Don't deny it; I know that's how all of you felt. But I can be angry, and hurt, as much as anyone else. And what you did hurt me and the others more than your sugar coated view of us and your old life will allow you to understand."

"I couldn't continue living like that. If I had thought that you or the others would or could change…."

"No one changes John. They just forget things on purpose. The problem with your situation is that you have people who remember things for you."

The sound of machinery moving inside the metal door was heard for a second before the sound of the lock lifting followed. The door was unlocked.

"And there are people who take things more personally than I do."

Shepard charged through the door, making it slam loudly against the wall. Damien was nowhere to be seen. Shepard inspected his immediate area for traps or ambushes, nothing. He walked down the long hall, hearing the almost animalistic and mad sounds of the other inmates. He entered a wider area, it looked like a place where the guards would sit and have a few drinks over a game of cards. A few metal tables and some empty bottles, several chairs, even a fridge and other appliances. It was empty, and dark. The lights weren't on. That is until a dim red light came on, flashing quickly. An alarm resonated through the halls and then through the speakers in the room. With his sight occupied by the flashing red light and his hearing filled with the blurting of the alarm, it was Shepard's keen feeling that alerted him to the thudding in the ground. It was shear luck that he turned and managed to duck beneath the large blunt object being swung at his head. The blunt object was swung again, and again, and once more before Shepard punched at the center of the attacker. If the attacker felt any pain, it didn't show. If anything, the punch hurt Shepard's fist more than the attacker. Shepard than realized that the big blunt weapon was actually a fist. Through the flashes of red, Shepard made out the long, black tribal tattoos running along the length of the exposed torso, arms, covered legs, and up into the head that was nearly eight feet off the ground.

"Surprise, surprise John." Sean said.

"What the hell are you doing here Sean?"

"At this moment, I need to prepare you for delivery."

"So you are working with Damien and Zakman as well, I should have known."

"Only as of a short time ago. Really the only thing that kept me from ringing Damien's neck was the news that you were here!"

"Just walk away Sean, you don't need to involve yourself in this. This is between me and the Zakman."

"No John it isn't. I have a score to settle with you as much as that batarian. You see those lights? You hear those alarms? That means it has started. I've got twenty minutes to have you prepared for departure, along with your girlfriend and company."

_Miranda!_

"Step aside Sean, this is your last chance!"

"Yeah, it is. My last chance to let off seven years of steam. Let's rock!"

* * *

><p>General Zakman sat at his desk quietly. He tapped his finger lightly against a half drunk glass of batarian ale, occupying himself. He had been expecting a report from Balak quite some time ago, and he was growing impatient.<p>

The door to his office opened and one of his soldiers walked in immediately, practically squeezing through the opening as it widened. He looked really worried, making his attempts at looking professional more pathetic.

"Sir, I have, um, news of Balak, and the human Informant."

"And what news is that?"

"The Informant forwarded a message to us sir. He says that he has found Balak, dead, killed by the members of Shepard's crew who are still at large."

Zakman remained completely motionless, even his breathing was regulated. On the inside, he was seething.

"Is that all?"

"No sir. The Informant has asked that we provide him with enough men and ships to commence with his plan. He says that Shepard's remaining crew will be attempting to free him from prison, and that his human friend Damien will go through with their capture."

"So he wants us to make him able to stage a breakout, only to capture Shepard and his people for us. How ironic. Send three drop ships of soldiers down there. I want Shepard and the Informant on this ship soon."

* * *

><p>"We are approaching the prison landing pad. Please wake all sleeping children!" Joker said from the pilot's seat.<p>

"There are no children on this vessel." Legion stated from behind him.

"It's just an expression Legion." Garrus said from the seat beside Joker, drowsy because he had actually dozed off a bit.

Miranda sat in the back, next to Private Jerrod Kilik. Miranda fidgeted with anticipation.

"You should calm down a bit, you look like whom may be someone attempting to break the law in a prison." Kilik half joked to her.

Miranda smiled to herself slightly, but her leg would not stop moving.

"I guess I'm just a little, nervous."

"If you don't mind me saying, you don't seem like the kind of girl to get worked up so easily."

Miranda knew he was right. She never fidgeted on Cerberus missions, never doubted her abilities or her preparedness. The only time she felt like this was when she had to fight through Eclipse mercs and Captain Enayla to protect Oriana, and during the suicide mission when she witnessed Shepard slide down the platform to catch a falling Garrus, unsure of it he was coming back. Now here she was coming to try and break Shepard out of prison, needing to rely on someone she just met.

"It's Shepard, isn't it?" Kilik asked unexpected concern.

_Am I that obvious?_

"I'm just worried that something will go wrong."

"He's important to you. I know that feeling."

Miranda looked over to him expectantly.

"He may as well have been my older brother, because of the bond we shared. He helped me through the darkest parts of my life. We watched each other's backs, we were happy. Or so I thought."

"What happened to him?"

"I still ask myself that same question. I thought I knew him, actually, maybe I still do. Perhaps he just forgot who he was, and turned his back on everything we had, everything he was."

"Who was he?" Miranda asked, surprisingly interested.

"We're here, everybody off." Joker said from the front.

Everyone began filing out, including Kilik.

"Like I said, he may as well have been my brother."

Miranda decided to drop it, she didn't expect to get anything else out of him.

"So should I just wait here, or are you guys planning of blowing up this…. Oh shit!" Joker swore as he looked into the sky.

Legion, Miranda, Garrus, and Kilik followed his gaze to see three heavily armed dropships, identical to the one present at the attack on the outpost, start landing at different landing pads placed around the prison. Soldiers armed to the teeth filed off and entered the prison. A loud alarm started to beep, echoing into the air.

"They're here for Shepard, we need to move!" Miranda said.

They all, minus Joker, ran into the prison, where gunshots where already being heard.

* * *

><p>Shepard ducked beneath Sean's arm, being forced back once again. Sean was forcing into a corner, and because of his incredible reach and bulk, Shepard couldn't maneuver around him.<p>

"You've gotten slower John!" Sean said, leaning back for another punch.

Shepard decided that the only way out, was up and over. Sean's fist came flying towards him. At the last second, Shepard moved a little to the side and the massive tattooed hand crashed into the locker behind him, denting it. Shepard took the opportunity to grab Sean's lowered head, pull it forth, and use the momentum to haul himself upwards and over his shoulders. The pull made Sean slam his head into the same locker, and Shepard shoved him from behind to make the impact worse. Sean roared and spun around, nearly back fisting Shepard who had just barely ducked beneath it. Shepard followed up with three quick strikes to the gut. Sean merely grunted in irritation at this, tried to give Shepard to old one two. The first strike Shepard actually blocked, but the force from it opened him up for the second one. Sean punched him straight in the chest, shoving him back.

Winded, Shepard wasn't able to avoid or block Sean's next attack, a kick from his long leg. The kick pushed Shepard off of his feet and made him crash onto one of the metal tables, scattering the assorted cups and plates. Before he could get up, Sean grabbed him by his throat and pinned him down.

"Do you really think you can beat me in a bare knuckle fight John?" Sean asked.

Shepard tried to push against him, but Sean was leaning into him, holding him firmly in place. Sean smiled widely, his teeth being a stark contrast to the black tribal tattoos on his face.

"Believe me, I want to kill you. I want to make you suffer for seven years of betrayal, of being stuck in this shit hole! But if I want to get out of here, I need you relatively intact."

Shepard reached around until he found a bottle that hadn't fallen off the table. He took it and broke it against Sean's head, scattering glass everywhere. Sean's head didn't move at all, but his grin disappeared, replaced by a scowl littered with sharp broken glass. Shepard felt Sean's other hand grab his leg, and Shepard was then thrown across the room, crashing and rolling on the ground. Pain shot through his whole body, his right shoulder mostly because he had landed on it. Then he felt the stomping in the ground again. Sean stomped over towards him and raised his foot, attempting to stomp on his stomach. Shepard rolled out of the way and swept his foot beneath Sean's, tripping the giant up. Still on the ground, Shepard took advantage of Sean's current imbalance and grabbed his arm when he bent over, and pulled him down. When he was low enough, Shepard placed both his legs against Sean's abdomen. Using all the strength he had in his legs, pushed upward, sending Sean toppling over and crashing to the ground. The resulting thud made a teetering cup fall to the ground.

Not wasting time, Shepard mounted on top of Sean and began beating his face in. Two punches, Sean winced, four punches, there was blood, six punches, and he broke his nose. Sean delivered a strong punch into Shepard's side, and used the brief pause to throw him off. Shepard took a few steps back and regained his composure. Sean got to his knees and looked at Shepard angrily. He grabbed his broken nose and snapped it back into place on the spot.

"You've gotten soft Sean." Shepard taunted.

"I'll show you soft!"

Sean did what could best be described as a human version of a krogan battle charge. The only difference was that instead of merely plowing into Shepard, Sean grabbed him and lifted him into the air, still charging. Shepard was carried ten feet and then slammed into the wall, with Sean's weight and momentum crushing him. Intense pain shot up Shepard's back and spine, and then Sean leaned back and slammed him into the wall again.

"Who's soft now John?"

Shepard promptly head butted Sean, hurting them both. Sean grabbed Shepard by his throat again and held him with one hand. Shepard could only watch as he brought his other fist back, and then punched him straight in the face. Shepard flew out of Sean's hand, felt his cheekbone cracking, and it was all he could do to stay conscious.

"Do yourself a favor and don't get back up. I must say, I'm a little disappointed with you John. What with everything Damien has told me you've been up to all years, I expected a little more."

Against the biting pain, Shepard pushed himself back onto his feet. His eye had already started to swell shut. His head had cleared of everything else, even the pain was somewhat forgotten. Only one thing remained in his head; defeat my enemy.

"Is that all you've got?" Shepard asked.

Shepard put a little fuck you in his words. Sean picked up on it immediately. Shepard recognized it, how his nostrils flared, his eyes widened. If this were a cartoon, smoke would have whistled out of his ears. Sean came running at him again, and this time, Shepard charged him as well. They both ran at each other full speed; a bear against a teddy bear would have been a fair comparison. Sean raised his fist, ready to drop the hammer. Shepard veered lower to the left. Sean did the same, swinging his arm low to catch Shepard. It was only a ruse. Shepard jumped at wrapped his legs around Sean's head. The missed punch and sudden weight on his head cause Sean to fall to his knees. Shepard grabbed one of Sean's arms and held it up with both of his hands. Shepard started squeeze and hard as he could. He could feel Sean's thick neck between his legs. Sean tried to pull Shepard's legs loose, but even he wasn't that strong. Sean tried to get back to his feet, and Shepard used his whole body to pull him back down onto his knees.

Shepard squeezed even more while still straining to hold one of Sean's arms in place. If he got both his hands free, he would be able to pry Shepard off of him. If he got back to his feet, he would be able to slam Shepard into the ground or wall. Sean finally decided to stop trying to pull Shepard off and instead started punching him. Sean punched him in the gut, the arms, and finally the head. Shepard powered through it. The adrenaline, the rush, gave him strength beyond normal capacity.

"Get….off…." Sean said through a choking rage.

Shepard felt Sean getting weaker. The punches were softer, and it was easier to hold his arm. Shepard used his legs to turn Sean over onto his back, with Shepard now constricting him from the top. Desperate attempts to get air escaped from Sean's mouth as gurgles and choking noises. He had stopped hitting Shepard, stopped moving. Shepard realized that he had held his breath, and had his eyes closed.

_Just a little more._

Just a little more, and Sean would die from suffocation or a broken neck. Then Shepard's eyes snapped open, and he released his hold and Sean. Shepard exhaled finally, and stood up. His legs were a little numb. As he tried to step away, something grabbed his ankle. Sean moaned slightly from the ground. Shepard kicked him across the face, and he let go. The lights still flashed, and the sound of the alarms still went. Another sound joined it, the sound of metal doors opening.

_Warning, all security doors have been opened. Please make sure prisoner supervision is adequate._

_Time to go._ Shepard thought.

* * *

><p>"That should keep everyone occupied." Damien said aloud.<p>

He had just opened all the security, plunging to prison into utter chaos. Prisoners now joined the fray with the guards and Zakman's soldiers. He grabbed his helmet from the pile of guards clothing he had been wearing. Stepping out of the control room, over the warden's body, he proceeded with the next part of the plan.

_Sean should have incapacitated Shepard by now. Hopefully he isn't too damaged._

He made his way to the lift and watched the fighting through the windows as he waited. He was always curious as to why escaping prisoners already managed to get their hands on something flammable. He heard the lift arrive and turned to get in. Shepard's fist greeted him, knocking him down.

"Hello to you to John." Damien said beneath his helmet.

"Where you expecting someone else!" Shepard yelled.

Shepard moved to curb stomp Damien, but Damien caught his foot and swept Shepard. Damien was on top of him with one of his tempests aimed at his head.

"Actually, yes. I can honestly say I didn't expect you coming up this lift. Were you hard on Sean?"

"Not as hard as I'm going to be on you."

Damien felt something press against his stomach. He looked down and saw a shuriken machine pistol.

"Get up." Shepard ordered.

Damien did as he was told, still aiming his gun at Shepard. Shepard got up, his weapon trained on Damien.

"Is this all your doing?" Shepard asked.

"Capturing the majority of your squad, yes. Sending Sean after you, yes. Releasing all these prisoners, yes. The batarians on the other hand, no that wasn't my plan."

"Three outta four is enough. I should put a bullet in your head right now."

"Can I get in on that?" Garrus said, coming up behind Damien.

Damien turned to see Garrus aiming his mattock at him.

"Don't even think of reaching for that other tempest." Garrus said.

"How did you find me Garrus?" Shepard asked.

"We had some help. Miranda, Legion, Joker and I escaped the attack this guy spearheaded. I recognize your armor."

"Yes, I was hoping I would see you again. Not like this though." Damien said, lowering his tempest from Shepard.

"Where are the others Garrus?

"Miranda and Legion are down in the lobby. I spotted this guy and followed him here. Joker is waiting at the landing pad with our way out. Let's go."

"Alright. You start walking, you're coming with us."

"Goody." Damien said sarcastically.

The three of them walked away, and they didn't notice the lift going back down to pick up a passenger who had signaled it, in solitary confinement.

* * *

><p>Miranda, Legion, and Kilik fired at the prisoners who were trying to rush them. They carried looted weapons, but weren't great shots. They made up for this in tenacity.<p>

"Hold them back! We can't let anyone onto this landing pad until Garrus gets back!" Miranda shouted.

"We estimate that a total 4591 prisoners can occupy this prison. Our supply of thermal clips is inadequate to counter this."

"We can do without the math Legion." Kilik said.

They had been fighting the prisoners for about eight minutes now. They kept trying to come out here to escape from the war zone in the center of the prison.

"Any word from Garrus yet Miranda?" Kilik asked.

"No, nothing…."

"Miranda, this is Garrus. Are you guys okay?" Garrus suddenly chimed in.

"Garrus! We're holding out, where are you?"

"I'm on my way back, I've got Shepard with me!"

Miranda felt a huge weight lift off her chest, replaced by rock hard resolve.

"Understood, we'll be here."

Miranda charged up her biotics and sent a powerful push into the group of prisoners, plowing them away and clearing the door they were coming through.

"Legion seal that door!"

Legion accessed the mechanism wirelessly and shut the huge metal door, locking it.

"Task completed."

"Secure the area, Garrus and Shepard will be here soon."

"He's got Shepard with him?" Kilik asked.

"Yes."

"Well this just got a whole lot easier then!" Kilik said cheerfully.

* * *

><p>"This way!" Garrus said.<p>

The three of them had started running. They encountered minimal resistance on the way, even Damien had remained cooperative.

"I'll admit I'm impressed you four managed to find become this much of a nuisance." Damien said to Garrus.

"Five."

"Excuse me?"

"There are five of us, we had some help."

"From who?" Shepard asked curiously.

"Here it's just through this door. Oh, and he's some Alliance Commando. Private Jerrod Kilik."

* * *

><p>Kilik watch the door open from behind Miranda and Legion. He saw Garrus enter, then Damien oddly enough, and finally, a slack jawed, horrified looking Shepard. He was sure he heard his name roll of the turian's lips.<p>

"Shepard!" Miranda shouted.

"You!" Shepard yelled, raising his pistol at her.

"What?" Miranda asked confusedly.

She heard the hiss of an unfolding weapon behind her, and felt metal brush against her head.

"Hello Johnny!" Kilik shouted excitedly.

Someone was laughing. It was a cold, hardly used laugh. It was Damien.

"Oh, this is rich, really rich. The person who has been helping you is him! Oh you can't write this stuff."

"Wait, Shepard, who the hell is this guy?" Garrus asked.

Shepard didn't reply. He was stuck in a state of disbelief.

"Thanks hon, you were a big help." Jerrod said in Miranda's ear.

"You son of a bitch, I'm going to turn you inside out!" Miranda flared her biotics.

"Ah ah ah, don't." Jerrod pressed his gun harder against her.

"Damien, how you let yourself get taken hostage?"

"Call it being stuck between a rock and a hard place." Damien said as he drew both his tempests on a distracted Shepard and Garrus.

Legion drew his pulse rifle and aimed it at in Shepard's direction, but not at Damien.

"Legion, what the hell are you aiming at? Shepard asked.

"That." Legion said.

"I see you started the party without me." Sean said behind them.

"This is practically a reunion, well minus Tyrone, Marcus, Rico and Alexander." He laughed, the only one finding humor in the joke.

"You shut up you bastard." Shepard said dangerously.

"Come on have a sense of humor Johnny."

"Don't call me that!"

"Jerrod, if you are done teasing, we should leave with them now before the Alliance sends people to sort this out." Damien said.

"Right as always Damien. But we still need to grab the pilot."

* * *

><p>Joker watched everything unfold before him. Kilik was a traitor, and he had a gun to Miranda's head.<p>

"Shit, shit, shit, why do I always got to do everything?"

He engaged the craft's engines and flew forward. He veered to the left and felt the craft clip Kilik, knocking him down. He flew around and saw all hell break loose.

* * *

><p>Kilik was knocked off his feet by the craft. Damien fired disruptor ammo into Legion, stunning him, and then grappled with Garrus. Sean had grabbed Shepard and put him into the mother of all bear hugs. Then he saw a <strong>very <strong>angry looking Miranda.

"Now about my last statement..."

She lifted him into the air with her biotics.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Jerrod said in the air.

Miranda shot a concentrated ball of biotic energy at him and he went rolling off the landing pad. Miranda turned her gaze around to the giant holding crushing Shepard. She went into a full on sprint. She had let this happen, she had trusted Jerrod, but she was not going to let them hurt Shepard by grace of her. She leapt from her sprint into the air raised her fist.

"Let go of him!" She yelled.

Her fist, charged with biotic energy, struck Sean cleanly on the jaw. He was launched off his feet, dropping Shepard to the ground. Miranda knelt down next to him.

"I'm so sorry Shepard, I didn't know who he was."

"Miranda.." Shepard said weakly.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

"Miranda..."

Something snapped over Miranda's right wrist, then her arm was wrenched behind her and so was her other one. Something snapped over her left wrist, and her arms were stuck behind her back.

"Miss me?" Jerrod asked.

He grabbed Miranda and slung her over his shoulder. Shepard tried to get up, but something slammed into his back. It felt like a foot.

"Damn Sean, your face looks like shit." Jerrod said.

Sean didn't say anything because his jaw was dislocated.

"Jerrod, Alliance ships are here, we need to go." Damien called out, shooting at Garrus to keep him behind cover.

Alliance ships had indeed started coming down from the air. Legion had recovered and started shooting at Jerrod and Sean. A batarian dropship flew over to the landing pad and hovered just off the ground. Two soldiers gave suppressing fire from the ship for Damien, Sean, and Jerrod. All three of them jumped onto it, Jerrod still carrying Miranda.

"I'll hold onto this for you!" Jerrod said as the ship flew away with it's precious, precious cargo.

* * *

><p><em>Yeah, this took a long time to get out. I won't meet my goal of finishing this before Mass Effect 3, oh well. I hoped you all enjoyed this. Read, Review, Suggest.<em>


	14. Do we have a deal?

_I'm back after a long ass time. This chapter is short, but I'm a little out of it with writing right now. Too much time playing Mass Effect 3 instead of writing I guess._

* * *

><p>"Fuck, fuck, fuck….." Joker said.<p>

He felt that 'Shit, shit, shit,' underestimated the situation right now. Kilik, the man that he and the others had trusted to help them rescue Shepard, had betrayed them. What's worse, he captured Miranda. What's worse than that, one of the three batarian dropships that had invaded the prison was now on their tale and forcing them into a dangerous high speed chase. To top it all off, the enemy ship had two forward cannons, and Joker is essentially piloting a flying mini van.

"Joker lose these guys!" Garrus said next to him.

"Oh yeah, because I'm actually trying to let them catch up!" Joker replied without turning.

"Go into open traffic!" Shepard ordered.

"Are you crazy?" Joker said.

"Just do it!"

"Oh boy…"

Joker veered into the lanes of oncoming traffic. Combining two ships flying in the wrong way with the cannon shots sent other pedestrians flying left, right, up, down, and other creative, panicked induced maneuvers.

"I can't just fly from him, we don't have the speed and if just one of those shots hits us we're toast."

"Open the hatch." Shepard said.

"What?"

Shepard leaned over and pressed the button that retracted the glass covering. Wind whipped into all their faces.

"Legion, with me!" Shepard said.

The both of them stood up and peered out of the open space. If they had looked down they would have seen the very high drop that they faced by leaning out too much or if Joker got a little too reckless. Legion used his Widow and Shepard borrowed Garrus's Mattock to fire at the drop ship. The rifle's bullets did minimal damage; the sniper actually cracked the glass of the cockpit.

"Hold on!" Joker said suddenly.

Shepard and Legion barely had time to brace themselves before their craft shot upwards with enough force to give someone whip lash. The drop ship overshot them, and wasn't able to pull off Joker's maneuver. A large craft towing a long line of crates was flying in their path, and the batarian drop ship crashed into the line of crates. It fell to the round far below in a smoldering fireball.

"Don't, don't do that again." Garrus said.

"No promises." Joker replied.

"Joker, get us outta here." Shepard said.

"Where to Commander?"

"I don't know. Somewhere quiet."

Shepard leaned back into the seat, suddenly more exhausted than ever. He didn't have his guns or his armor, he didn't have his ship, he barely had his squad, and now he had some time to think. His head grew heavy, and he strained to keep it up.

"Shepard, who was that guy?" Garrus asked.

"Sean Macarthur, he was a member of the Reds with me."

"I don't mean the giant with the tattoos." Garrus said.

"Damien Crenshaw then, he was also,"

"Yeah I know! He was the one who fucking attacked us and kidnapped damn near everyone, of course I know who the fuck he is. Dammit Shepard, stop avoiding the question." Garrus said angrily.

Shepard turned his head away. The lights of all the buildings reflected in his eyes, barely open, defeated.

"Shepard!" Garrus said.

Shepard felt Garrus's fiery stare, and he was sure that Legion was silently watching him as well. He noticed Joker occasionally turning his head slightly. Shepard's fist clenched tightly in his lap, the pressure getting to him.

"His name is,

* * *

><p>"Jerrod Kilik, the last person I ever expected to see again." Sean said.<p>

"Why you say that Sean? I had every intention of coming to see you in prison." Jerrod said with fake hurt.

"Maybe it's because you were supposed to be dead." Damien said.

"It wasn't that bad." Jerrod said dismissively.

"Oh I'm sure." Damien replied.

Jerrod shifted slightly at Damien's studying gaze, rubbing his shoulder. He never did feel comfortable when people just stared at him.

"Well, now that we established that Jerrod is alive and kicking, how about we get link up with this guy who's been paying you. What was his name? Colonel Zakera?" Sean asked.

"General Zakman, and we can't. After the ruckus at the prison the Alliance will be on the lookout for batarian ships." Damien told him.

"So we don't leave Earth in a batarian ship." Jerrod said.

"You got the credits to buy a space worthy replacement then?" Sean asked.

Jerrod just snickered and smiled vainly. Buy a ship?

"You haven't been locked up that long Sean, but even if I did feel like shelling out the creds, I doubt any of us could just walk into a dealership."

"Yeah, an escaped convict and dead man who just so happens to be alive would probably turn a few heads." Damien added.

"Don't forget the mercenary captain, Damien." Sean added with a smirk.

"Well at least I have the guile and subtlety to stay unnoticed." Damien retorted.

"I think I did a pretty good job, I mean I managed to pull the wool over the eye's of our beautiful friend her." Jerrod said proudly.

Not ten feet from the talking men, Miranda cringed inwardly in shame, embarrassment, and white hot rage. Yes, Jerrod had indeed fooled Garrus, Legion, Joker, and herself.

"Tell me beautiful, how was I? Do you think I have a career in acting?" Jerrod asked, positively giddy like it were his lifelong dream to be an actor.

Miranda merely turned her head from him. If she answered in anyway, it would be anything but supportive.

"Oh come on beautiful, don't be like that. Really, what was it like when Johnny's jaw almost hit the ground when he saw me, and I had a gun to your head?"

Miranda remained silently but physically livid. If her hands weren't bound behind her back…..

"Oh, I think I know why you won't answer. It's too embarrassing, isn't? Something tells me you aren't one to be fooled so easily. Well, not usually." Jerrod said smiling.

Miranda's nose twitched. Jerrod reached over and grabbed her chin, trying to make her face him. She tore her face from his hand to the other side. He laughed slightly at her resistance.

"Clearly you aren't used to looking like an idiot. Just imagine how stupid Johnny must've thought you were."

Miranda's character has always been described as efficient, calm, and smart. What she did next was none of those things. She angrily head butted Jerrod. The speed, strength, and explosiveness of the blow did damage. Jerrod, who had been crouching down to face her, almost fell back if he hadn't put his hand behind him on the floor. Blood started to run down his face from his brow, a cut having being opened.

"I guess you aren't as level headed as I thought either."

"I just wanted to do that before you killed me, unless you really are just planning on wasting my time with your stupid questions." Miranda spat.

"You are a tough one beautiful. But I don't plan on killing you. I know Johnny, he'll be wanting to rush to your rescue. We can take advantage of that and then worry about getting off world."

Jerrod licked at some blood that had dripped down to the side of his lips. He stood up and waved one of the remaining batarian soldiers over to him.

"You watch her well, she's a dangerous one." He ordered.

The soldier nodded in acknowledgment.

"You two, we need to talk… and by the way….." Jerrod turned from Sean and Damien to Miranda.

He took one step and kicked her across the face. She would have fallen over if her bonds weren't around a steel beam. Her hair covered her face as her cheek throbbed with pain. She couldn't stifle the gasp of pain that escaped her bleeding lips. Jerrod knelt down and moved the hair from her face gently. He caressed her cheek and lips, getting the blood on his fingers. Miranda wasn't looking at him directly, but she could see him searching her eyes for signs of more pain. He rubbed her blood into his hand and got up to leave.

"Payback is a bitch beautiful."

Jerrod exited through a door, and Damien followed him.

"You're lucky, trust me, all you got was a punt in the face. When you cease to be useful, you better hope that it's me who gets to deal with you. I know he isn't finished with you yet." Sean said before following Damien and Jerrod.

Miranda watched the giant man leave and was left alone with one batarian guard. For some reason, she felt oddly exhausted. She had screwed up big, again. She hardly ever made mistakes, in fact she could count the times she had on her fingers. Two of those moments, now decidedly the worst, had occurred recently. The first, she had accidentally provoked one Shepard's old gang members, Marcus, into seriously injuring Shepard and then killing himself. Now, she believed Jerrod to be an Alliance soldier and led him to Shepard. The only reason the others escaped is because she had thrown herself at them and gotten captured instead. But this didn't make her feel better. Jerrod was right about Shepard.

* * *

><p>Joker had landed the hovercraft in a nearby thirty story building used a huge landing port. He had docked it at the very top, where others were sparse. He walked laps around a group of six vehicles, including his own. He would've been happy to remain in his seat if it were the Normandy, but he just felt cramped in the four person craft. Garrus had remained close by to it, fiddling with the scope of his sniper rifle with a frustrated expression. He could see Shepard just leaning against the wall near the edge of the exit port of the building, looking out on the city, seemingly oblivious to the long drop he faced with one wrong step. Legion stood stoic and motionless, save for the occasional adjustment of his ocular component. Joker laughed inwardly to himself. He could choose between two of his most trusted friends, and he went to talk to the geth.<p>

"You can feel the tension between them, huh?" Joker said next to Legion.

"The physical sensation of tension is cannot be felt, but Shepard Commander and Garrus do not seem to be facilitating unit cohesion." Legion replied.

"Yeah, I guess Garrus has finally been fed up with Shepard's secretiveness."

"We believe that Garrus has more personal feelings about the situation."

"How so?"

"It is logical and understandable for Garrus to be frustrated, but his pride is wounded as well. We have analyzed the interactions between the two of them, Garrus defers to Shepard Commander's judgment and leadership constantly. Garrus seeks to impress the commander, and holds himself to higher standards because of it. That Kilik Private managed to deceive all of us angers him greatly. The capture of Operative Lawson only makes the current situation worse."

"And how do you feel? Jerrod fooled you to Legion."

"We had no evidence to suggest that Jerrod Kilik would be an enemy."

"Yeah, but how do you feel about it?"

"We… will remember to be more cautious in the future. What about you Joker?"

"Well if he fooled a C-Sec investigator, an incredibly smart woman who used to be way up there with Cerberus, and a walking computer, I guess I really had no chance then."

"What's our next move?" Garrus spoke up suddenly.

"We need to wait." Shepard replied without moving.

"What do you mean we wait?" Garrus asked.

"Continuing to run around without a clue will only make things worse."

'Continuing', Joker heard it, Legion heard it, and Garrus most definitely heard it. Garrus slammed his sniper down on the hood of the hovercraft. Joker rushed over to deactivate the alarm that started to go off from the vehicle just in time to hear Garrus scolding Shepard.

"You've got some damn nerve saying something like that! If you had come straight with us from the beginning, we could've prepared for Damien attacking us, we could've known who Jerrod was, maybe Miranda and the others would still be here!"

It looked like another fight between the two was about to break out, but to everyone's surprise, Shepard yielded.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I already said that before, and I didn't do it, I know. I just thought I should handle this myself. No, I wanted to handle it myself. But I can't, not now. It's worse than I could have imagined."

"What do you mean?" Garrus asked.

"For one thing, they broke Sean out of prison, that's bad enough. But Jerrod, he's alive somehow. Also, the reason we have batarians after us is because of this one guy, a General Zakman. He's intending to make an example of Hackett and myself because of the destroyed mass relay. He's got Balak as a lieutenant…"

"Not anymore." Garrus interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"Shepard Commander, while searching for clues we were ambushed by a group of batrians, led by Balak. Jerrod Kilik killed him, taking a bullet for Miranda in the process." Legion explained.

"I see, well I can say that I'm not surprised. Zakman has no idea what he has done by employing Jerrod."

"Well if he is as bad as you say he is, then shouldn't we be trying to et Miranda back from him?" Joker asked.

"We aren't in a position to be looking for three very dangerous people right now. But I know Jerrod, we just need to wait."

Just then a high pitched beeping came from the hovercraft they had been using. Joker was the closest and fished out a communicator that was attached beneath the dash. He opened the channel and a voice came through.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hello?" Joker replied.

Shepard took the communicator from him.

"Who is this?"

"Hmm, that sounds like you Johnny."

"I already told you not to call me that."

"Why not? Johnny and Jerry, that had such a nice ring to it didn't it?"

"Times have changed Jerrod."

"Clearly. Anyway, we have some business to discuss. I have something of yours, and you have something I want."

"What's that?"

"You! I want you Johnny. So how about a trade. You for Miranda."

"Why would you want to give one hostage away, are you afraid you can't get me yourself?"

The silence lingered for a few moments on the other end.

"I'm not afraid of you Johnny. This isn't a trade I'm considering easily. I would very much like to come find you, see if you've stayed sharp all these years. But the Alliance is getting more cautious now, and we can't stay here for much longer, and Zakman is getting impatient. He already has Hackett, you are the only one he absolutely still needs. So Miranda here, well she doesn't need to be kept pristine."

"If you touch her….."

"It's already too late for that, but if you work with me then I'll leave her alone. She still every bit as breathtaking, I promise you."

"And what about my crew and ship?"

"The ones you still have with you, I suppose Zakman can live without them. The others he already has, well you can ask him in person about them."

Shepard glanced up at the others. He saw steel resolve in all of them, even Legion.

"How can I trust you?" Shepard asked.

"How can I trust **you**?" Jerrod asked.

Shepard was disgusted with himself. He felt bad. This was coming from Jerrod, and he was the one that felt like the bad guy.

"Where?"

"A recently decommissioned Alliance storage facility, the coordinates are in the communicator. There shouldn't be anybody there, save for maybe a few squatters."

"Alright then, we'll be there. Miranda better be okay."

"I might kill her, I might not kill her. If you don't show up there in five hours, I **will **kill her. See you then Johnny. Would you like to say goodbye beautiful? Sean, bring her over please."

Shepard's heart skipped a beat as he heard the unmistakable heavy footsteps grow louder.

"Well, speak up!" Sean could be heard in the background.

There was stubborn silence for a moment, then an angry growl followed by a womanly gasp of pain.

"You broke my jaw with this hand, so I'm going to break it if you don't cooperate!"

"Unh, Shepard….."

"Miranda, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, these bastards aren't that tough."

A deep chuckle could be hear in the background, but Shepard couldn't tell if it was Sean or Jerrod.

"Listen to me Miranda. I'm going to save you, just hold on."

"Don't Shepard, you can't trust….."

"And that's all the time we have for today." Jerrod interrupted.

"There you go Johnny, you've got the details. Your time starts….wait for it…now!"


	15. A Plan Within a Plan

"3000 credits." Shepard said.

"Alright, 3000 credits it is. You got a good deal there." The store owner said.

Shepard was already leaving. After talking with Jerrod he had spent the last two hours procuring a new set of armor and weapons. He had bought a full set of Armax Arsenal armor, a Predator pistol, a Katana shotgun, a Mantis sniper, and now an Avenger rifle. It wasn't anywhere near as good as all the equipment he had bought and found before but needed to leave behind at the prison, but it was good enough for the job. He wasn't going up against Reapers or Collectors this time.

"Just a psychotic monster." He said quietly.

A psychotic, sadistic, cruel, smart monster. Jerrod had no intention of letting Miranda go, at least not to maintain this bargain. He was too deceitful for that.

"But I'm better than you ever were you son of a bitch…."

Shepard felt a little more proud and anxious at this thought than he should be, but he didn't care. Garrus had given him four of the five hours they had to go reequip himself. Garrus was giving him rules; Shepard supposed that he could understand that. Garrus didn't want him taking off on his own again.

"Sorry Garrus, but I need to test our friendship one more time."

He had two more hours, plenty of time.

* * *

><p>"Nothing, absolutely nothing." Garrus said to himself<p>

Along with Legion and Joker, Garrus had been waiting at the meeting point where Shepard would find them after he got some equipment. He had occupied his time by putting his investigation skills to the test. At least, he was trying to.

"You used to find people on the freakin' Citadel Garrus, are you telling me the local police network has got you beat?" Joker asked.

"It's not just the police network. It is that and the Alliance network. They have nothing!" Garrus exclaimed.

"We have finished scouring police, Alliance, and the extranet files. No data available on Damien Crenshaw, Sean Macarthur, or Jerrod Kilik. We have not discovered any additional information on Marcus Robinson and Rico Contreras. Only basic information such as property tax on Alexander and Tyrone Williams." Legion stated.

"These guys are ghosts. There is plenty of info on the Reds in general, but it's like these guys were barely associates with the gang." Garrus said with frustration.

"Did you…did you try using Shepard's name?" Joker asked.

Garrus looked at his omni tool with hesitation. The idea hadn't crossed his mind. The investigator inside him scolded him for overlooking a known fact, that Shepard was a member of the Reds and admitted to having dealings with all these people. But the friend inside him just didn't want to try it, as if the mere act of looking would damn Shepard in his eyes. But the thought was too tempting….

"We have run searches for John Shepard, and then refined the search to John Shepard, Reds. Zero results pertaining to Shepard's involvement with the Reds were returned." Legion stated.

Garrus was secretly thankful for the geth's initiative.

"Well, Shepard should be back in about an hour. After that, all we need to worry about is Miranda."

* * *

><p>"Hello? You there?" Jerrod asked into his communicator.<p>

"This is General Zakman. Who is this?"

"You forget me already? It's Jerrod Kilik."

"I don't know who you are, but you better tell me what this is before I trace this signal back to your location."

"Calm down General, you know me. I guess you must know me better by Informant."

"I see then, I was wondering when I would hear from you again, Kilik. I haven't had any contact with you since you revealed myself and Balak to Shepard. Speaking of whom, one of my men tells me that you have found Balak dead."

"I'm afraid so, maybe he should have just stayed on the ship like a good boy no? Jerrod mocked.

On the other end of the line, General Zakman clenched his fist so that the skin whitened beneath his glove, allowing his voice to come out composed.

"Anyway, when will you be returning? You assured me that Shepard would be on my ship soon, but I am losing patience."

"I've got something Shepard wants, and he'll come to me to get it back, and I'll be waiting. What about his remaining crew?"

"Shepard takes priority over them. I suppose the ones I do have will are satisfactory. If you absolutely cannot acquire them, then I give you permission to deal with them as you see fit, or abandon them entirely. Zakman out."

"Hnh, you hear that beautiful? You just became expendable!" Jerrod said like it was something to congratulate.

"You just earned the title of most idiotic fool I have ever met. Do you really think that you and your men can take Shepard, Garrus, and Legion? I'm willing to put money on Joker even defeating you." Miranda retorted.

"Ooh, that almost hurt my feelings. But I'm sure that Shepard won't bring anything to the table I can't handle."

"Well then you must have been living under a rock for a few years, because you obviously don't know Shepard."

Jerrod's grey eyes flared widely and he pounced on Miranda, holding her against the wall. Even if her hands weren't bound behind her, Miranda wouldn't have made an effort to struggle. Jerrod held her by her shoulders, and craned his neck and slouched enough so that his 6'7 could meet her 5'10. He breathed slowly, but his face was so close to hers that she felt his hot breath on her nose and mouth. It smelt slightly of cigarettes, and a small trace of red sand. Miranda couldn't look away from him. Perhaps it was partly out of stubborn pride, not wanting to show fear or submission. Perhaps she thought that she could read him in his stare, but she felt like it was the other way around.

"Don't I? Everybody knows Shepard. He is an N7 operative, lost his whole unit on Akuze, first human Specter, Hero of the Citadel," he listed each epitaph with increasing vigor and awe, "but then he died, only to be found living again a couple of years later, but with Cerberus! Oh I know Shepard, more than even the public does. Like the fact that he saved the human race from the Collectors, destroying a Reaper in the progress and then annihilated the base."

Miranda's focus on Jerrod's eyes faltered slightly, she traced the scar on his face before focusing again. The fact that Jerrod knew this much about their operations was discerning.

"I know that he did a number of very considerate things; playing lawyer at a Quarian debate, blowing up an old Cerberus biotic training facility, and among other things, saving a young woman from mercenaries sent by her overprotective father. Oriana is her name, correct?"

Miranda's eyes twitched and she now looked deep into Jerrod's eyes, and he she could read the satisfaction in him.

"Yes, everyone knows Shepard. But, I know Johnny. Do you know him? He's a great guy. I know that he is allergic to peanuts, and that he afraid of bees mostly because he has never been stung before. I know that he always wanted a dog, but couldn't initially afford to support himself and one, but once he could, he decided against it because he was too considerate of the fact that he wouldn't be able to treat it as well it deserved. I know that he hates being hungry, because it reminds him too much of living in that orphanage, and that he hates the smell of burning flesh, though I guess that could be attributed to me own actions. I know that since he was a teenager he wanted to have a wife and kids, can you believe that?"

Jerrod released his hold and Miranda and leaned back from her face. Miranda still leaned against the wall as if she were being held there.

"I know that Johnny is troubled, that despite all the horrors he could have faced in the years since joining the Alliance, he is still constantly haunted by one failure, by one defeat. I know that Johnny has tried to turn himself into Shepard so that he could redeem himself, and try to forget, but it just won't work."

Jerrod seemed to physically relax, but it didn't lessen the intensity of the situation.

"I know that every time he receives praise or fails, the former is marred and the latter attributed to an event in his life that **I **am apart of, not you! So tell me, what do you know about Johnny?"

Before Miranda could answer, though she really didn't have one, one of the batarian soldiers came into the room.

"A report just came in that Shepard is will be here in about twenty minutes."

"Wow, he is cutting it really close with the time limit here. Get the men ready and in positions, and take her with you."

* * *

><p>The flight to the decommissioned Alliance facility took Shepard, Garrus, Legion and Joker to an out of the way area, where nobody seemed to be flying around. The only people they had seen were two batarian soldiers that had flagged them down and sent them to the proper location. Upon landing, another batarian waited for them to exit the craft.<p>

"All of you follow me."

Legion got out first, followed by Garrus. He looked back and saw Shepard whispering something to Joker, but he couldn't hear it. Shepard then nodded to Joker and got out as well.

"I said all of you!" The batarian said to Joker.

"But, but" Joker began.

"He is just a pilot, he's got no weapons and…" Shepard started.

"Either he comes," the batarian drew his rifle, " or he dies!"

Shepard looked back at Joker and gestured for him to follow. Joker threw up his hands in protest, but Shepard just insisted. Joker carefully climbed out and joined the line. The batarian led the four of them deep into the storage facility. It seems that the Alliance hadn't finished clearing out the place, and some munitions still remained in their storage crates. They had turned into a different corridor about four times before entering a room that had several controls that probably operated the crane seen in the window. Miranda stood straight with her hands bound behind her, and a silver gloved hand held her by the arm.

"Have a safe trip?" Damien asked beneath his helmet.

"Safe enough, but I can't say I think much of our hosts." Garrus said.

"Maybe your opinion will change once the festivities start." Damien replied, and he pulled Miranda slightly over to him.

"Where is Jerrod? We had a deal, me for her." Shepard said.

"Always saving the damsel in distress, eh Johnny?" A voice said.

No one had entered the room, but Shepard noticed a distortion in the light moved from beside him and over to Miranda. It flickered and flashed, and then the cloak deactivated to reveal the black and red armor, minus the helmet.

"How is that for an entrance huh?" Jerrod asked.

He got no response.

"Damn, you people really are no fun."

"I'm not here to have fun Jerrod; I'm here to get this over with. Let her go." Shepard said.

"You are so business like Johnny, negotiations require a little give and take you know." Jerrod said.

"Fine then, take the cuffs off here, and take my in her place but to your master."

"Master…. that's funny."

Jerrod pulled Miranda over and typed the code into her cuffs, making them open up.

"See you soon beautiful." He whispered very quietly into her ear before pushing her forward.

Miranda walked forward and hugged Shepard tightly, something she never did during a mission. Shepard returned it even tighter, and reluctantly, pushed past her. Miranda looked on as Shepard approached Jerrod, but then someone was whispering in her ear again.

"Get ready." It sounded like Garrus.

Shepard approached Jerrod and Damien, the former with a slight grin on his face.

"We're going to have a chance to catch up Johnny, I look forward to…." Jerrod was saying before a frantic voice started yelling into his intercom.

"The police are advancing on our position! We need support right…" The comm was cut by a loud gunshot.

Jerrod had turned his eyes slightly to focus on the message. When he turned them back, he barely had time to register Shepard's fist flying at him. The punch knocked him to the ground, but Shepard didn't follow through with it, instead retreating back to his group. Garrus killed the batarian that walked them in, and Legion boosted his shields and took the shots from Damien's twin tempests. Mirana shot some concentrated biotic energy at Damien. He tried to jump out of the way, but this only succeeded in making the energy strike his legs and spin him around onto the ground. The five of them quickly exited, with Legion and Miranda helping Joker move faster.

"Son of a bitch, does no one honor a deal anymore?" Jerrod said aloud.

"Yeah, because we had every intention of letting them walk out of here." Damien said sarcastically.

"Whatever, we need to take them down now. Is Sean still watching the landing pad?"

"He went there as soon as they left their ship. I'm surprised he managed to get into that armor."

* * *

><p>Shepard remembered to way they had come perfectly and led all of them back through the facility towards the landing pad. It wasn't easy, the remains of the batarian soldiers who had come to the prison break tried to stop them at every turn. Joker had caused one drop ship to crash, that left two that had survived. Each one could carry about fifteen men, and Shepard's group had encountered and killed eight so far.<p>

"There is less resistance than I expected." Miranda said, throwing up a biotic barrier over the group.

"Shepard guaranteed that the cops would be here after the fact. By the way, you never did tell us how you managed that." Garrus said.

"They came didn't they? Don't worry about the details." Shepard said.

* * *

><p><em>Earlier<em>

"You packing it in chief?"

"Yeah I'm beat, and the old lady has dinner waiting. Did you resolve that situation at the mall?"

"I sure did, they really should take that bar out of there."

"I don't think so, I like that place myself. You have a goodnight now."

The chief stepped into the lot with the personal vehicles of all the officers. He walked down the line to his spot and found his hovercraft smashed, bashed, and burnt. Steadying himself against the wreck, he knelt down and found a gps device that was tracking another craft, flying towards a decommissioned Alliance storage facility. The chief ran faster than he ever has in his life back into the station. Everyone was going to be working over time.

* * *

><p><em>Present<em>

The landing pad was just beyond the door ahead. Shepard couldn't suppress a feeling of triumph. He had saved Miranda, the police had arrived at the perfect time, and he didn't need to use his failsafe plan. If this were a movie, a bright light would come shining through the door when it opened. Instead, when the door opened, standing between them and their freedom was a giant clad in army green armor with a chain gun.

"Holy sh…." Joker began.

"Move!" Shepard yelled.

All of them dived into cover as the chain gun revved and started sending hundreds of rounds at them.

"You guys can't leave yet, the party just started!" Sean shouted over the gun.

All five of them crouched behind cover as the bullets chewed up the walls and the tops of their cover. Legion caught the sight of something rolling near him, Joker and Miranda. The flashlight head focused on it and then widened rapidly. Legion boosted the shields on all three of them and grabbed Joker.

"We recommend relocation." The geth said to Miranda.

Legion slid Joker to some cover ahead of them, somehow making him avoid the bullets with precision that only a machine could achieve. Miranda and Legion both flowed to the same spot before the grenade exploded violently, engulfing their previous position in flames.

"Aw hell, incendiary grenades!" Shepard shouted.

Another one rolled over to his and Garrus's position and they were forced to move upwards. The chain gun stopped firing, Sean finally exhausting the weapons massive clip. He started the somewhat lengthy process of reloading it.

"Open fire now!" Garrus shouted.

Shepard, Garrus, and Legion shot Sean as he was reloading. His armor had tech abilities, the holograms seen on so many Eclipse and Blue Suns running all over him. The metal itself was also very thick, deflecting some of the shots entirely. Sean reached around his back and grabbed two more grenades. He activated both and tossed them downrange. The five of them were forced to move up again, and Sean finished reloading his gun.

_Come on, get a little closer. _Sean thought.

Sean decided to take his own initiative and started walking forward, continuously firing.

"We need to get in close, engage him in hand to hand." Shepard said.

"You do see how big he is right?" Garrus asked.

"Do you see how big that gun is? We need to take that advantage away. Miranda, put up a barrier and Legion power up our shields." Garrus ordered.

"You better make it quick, neither of those will last long against that thing." Miranda said.

She threw up a powerful, stationary barrier halfway between Shepard and Garrus and Sean. The two of them rushed towards the barrier and then Legion boosted their shields once they exited. The shields lasted until the two of them reached Sean. Garrus kicked the barrel of the chain gun and Shepard latched onto Sean's arm. Legion rushed over and helped them try and wrestle Sean down.

"That's not going to work this time John." Sean said beneath the three people.

Kintetic energy started to gather along Sean's armor, the energy for the shields diverting as well. The kinetic energy released and blasted Shepard, Legion, and Garrus off of him. Legion and Garrus were thrown against the wall, and Shepard, who was pretty much on top of Sean, was launched into the ceiling. The blast even made Miranda unsteady, but she managed to use her biotics to shoot the huge gun out of Sean's hands. With surprising speed, the massive man closed the distance between them and tried to clobber her in the hand. Miranda ducked beneath it tried punching him in the side, with biotic energy. It seems the kinetic blast depleted his shields, but the armor was still hard enough to stand up to the attack. Sean kicked his leg out and tripped Miranda to the ground. Before she could defend herself, Miranda had to place her hands over her chest to stop Sean from crushing her. Sean rubbed his jaw beneath his helmet.

"My turn." He said, pressing even harder on her.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size!" Joker yelled.

Brandishing a pistol dropped by a fallen enemy. Joker fired at Sean's back, and two of the five bullets penetrated . Sean cringed in pain and spun around, back handing Joker with his armored glove. Joker's head may not be brittle as brittle as his legs, but the hit did enough damage to drop him. Before he could open his eyes, Sean had him in the air by the throat.

_I'm the pilot; I'm not supposed to get hit! _

"You think you can take me on little man?" Sean asked rhetorically.

"I think I just killed you." Joker said.

Sean punched him right in the gut. He wouldn't admit it, but the two bullets that had got through were bleeding profusely. He punched Joker again and then slammed him into the ground. Joker somehow managed to stay conscious, barely, and avoided hitting his legs.

"I'm not about to be done in by a pipsqueak like you." Sean proclaimed.

"How about him?" Joker asked smugly.

Sean felt a bullet fly into his knee, not getting through but unsteadying him. Another one collided with his helmet, bouncing off but disorienting him. Then he felt another shot hit his abdomen, this one getting through, and then someone tackling into his midsection. Shepard pushed him back furiously, taking advantage of Sean's bad condition and shoving him backwards from Joker and Miranda.

"This again John? Show me what you got!"

Sean raised his elbow and dropped it down on Shepard's back, missing the spine by merely a few inches. Shepard gasped loudly from the blow and Sean kneed him in the gut. He grabbed Shepard by a leg and arm, spun around, and tossed him back at Miranda and Joker.

"Now, I'm going crush your girlfriend first John, then your little friend, and do you last so that you can watch them die."

"No, you won't." Shepard said, exhausted.

Sean heard a rapidly beeping sound, but he didn't need to investigate what it was. He had thrown four grenades, he initially had five. Before he could mouth a final curse, the incendiary grenade blew up on his back. He was engulfed in flames, his organs had ruptured from the explosion, and he died a few moments after.

Shepard watched Sean's huge corpse burned, the ashes already starting to fly off him. One of them landed on Shepard hand and he wiped it away, disgusted. He hated burning flesh, and that it was Sean's made it even worse.

"Are you guys okay?" He asked Miranda and Joker.

"I haven't been okay in years, but I've felt worse than this." Joker said.

"I'm fine Shepard." Miranda said.

"Good, lets get out of here before the police get in our way."

Shepard helped Joker up and encouraged him to get to the hover craft quickly. Any wasted time right now was potentially fatal. Joker got into the pilot seat and prepped the engines. He watched as the other four started making their way to the ship. He noticed an odd play on the light behind Shepard. His eyes widened in realization and before he could cry out, the invisible figure hit Shepard over the head with a large object. As Shepard fell to the ground, it vaulted over him and hit Legion next, electricity sparking from it, an indication of a melee stunner. It then grabbed Garrus from behind and held him as a shield between itself and Miranda. The invisible being became visible again, and Jerrod with his helmet this time held his triple barreled shotgun beneath Garrus's head.

"Hello again beautiful, Johnny. How are you doing Cyclops? I'm Jerrod Kilik." Jerrod said to Garrus.

"You damn coward, why don't you fight like a man and we can settle this." Miranda said with biotic energy building around her.

A small dart flew into her neck, the shot coming from Damien with a specialized rifle in the door way they had come through. Miranda's vision started to blur and she felt dizzy.

"How about, no." Jerrod said to her as she fell to the ground.

"If you are going to kill me then hurry up all ready, you smell terrible." Garrus said.

Jerrod raised his shotgun and hit Garrus over the head with it, knocking him out cold.

"It looks like we missed one. I think the lady here was willing to put money on you if we were to fight." Jerrod said.

Joker watched him point his gun at him. The craft was starting to levitate, but he didn't have enough time. He closed his eyes and hoped that it would happen quickly. The shot was heard, Joker's heart skipped a beat, and the bullets hit the craft five inches from his head. Shepard had forced himself up and pushed Jerrod's gun aside.

"Go!" He screamed before getting hit over the head again.

Joker clenched his teeth and gunned it. He was holding the throttle harder than he needed to, but he was just running on rage and sorrow right now. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but he was out of options.

"Well, he really isn't worth the effort I suppose. Nice shot by the way Damien." Jerrod said.

"If you didn't need to make things so dramatic all the time, you could've handled both of them." Damien said.

"Oh, you haven't even seen drama yet. Let's get them to Zakman, he'll be overjoyed I'm sure. Gather whatever men are in this facility and get them on the ships. The ones that are fighting the cops, tough luck. And get a surprise ready for the cops.

* * *

><p>The police chief was angry as hell. First, his vehicle was vandalized beyond repair. Second, on his way here he and his men had encountered armed batarians for some reason. To top it all off, when he got to the coordinates the gps showed, it was just the tracker sitting on the ground.<p>

"How much worse can this night get?" The chief said to himself.

Charges placed along the still stockpiled munitions in the storage facility went off when the timer reached zero. It started a chain reaction that set off all the missiles, bombs, and charges the Alliance had yet to move. The resulting explosion was more than sufficient to wipe out everything in the immediate area, including anything on the separate landing pad.

* * *

><p>"Damn, it almost feels like a waste to let all that hardware just go off by itself." Jerrod said.<p>

"I figured that you would be glad that you were far away from a big explosion." Damien said in the seat behind him.

"Okay, that was a low blow Damien."

Their ships broke through the atmosphere and started on a course for the Charon mass relay, with Shepard, Miranda, Garrus, and Legion stuck in the cargo bay.

* * *

><p>Joker walked into the base unsteadily, his legs aching. He flashed his card to an officer and he was let inside the hangar bay. Ships of different sizes and shapes lay before him; he was like a kid in a candy shop. He remembered the Commander's words 'D4, tell them you are the maintenance man.' Joker had done just that, even bringing a tool kit to complete the image. He walked, his legs practically creaking with each step, until he found what he was looking for. A single man Longsword fighter. He checked it and found the cockpit unlocked, and the activation code already put into it.<p>

"Shepard, what did you used to do that made you able to pull this off?" Joker asked himself as he climbed in.

He started the thrusters and rolled along the hangar floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" The officer who had let him in said over the intercom.

"I'm the maintenance man, aren't I supposed to do this?" Joker replied back.

"No you aren't!"

Joker activated the weapons and blew open the hangar doors.

"And you definitely can't do that!"

Joker flew the Longsword out of the hangar and started the climb away from Earth. He could see in the sensors that ships were preparing for a pursuit.

"That's right, come and get me!" Joker said as he broke through the atmosphere.

He followed the signal coming off of the tracker Shepard had activated and started following it to the Charon mass relay.

* * *

><p><em>I hope this was a good one for you guys. This story is getting closer to it's conclusion, but there is still some stuff that needs to be let out, some secrets to be revealed, and old grudges to be resolved. Read, review, suggest.<em>


	16. Payday

"_What the hell have you done?"_

"_They did this, not me!"_

"_Damn you, you fucking lunatic!"_

_Explosions, a background noise to the screaming and yelling. Blood goes everywhere. Enraged huffs of exertion and pain, maniacal laughter of sick satisfaction and pleasure._

"_Die! Die! Die!"_

_Gunshots, curses, the squishy, tearing, dripping sound of a blades cutting open skin and slicing of pieces._

"_I love you, I always will."_

"_If you ever need my help, just ask, for anything."_

"_Thank you, thank you….."_

_A door is open with a bright light shining through it, hundreds of things, people, and places passing by it's small view point._

"_Why did you do this?" The light gets dimmer._

"_This is terrible." It dims again._

"_Freak…"_

"_Psycho…"_

"_Monster…"_

"_Killer, thief, criminal, sicko…"_

_The light dims to little more than a candle, the darkness that was already there seeming even more so. _

"_I thought that we were….we could've…..why are you doing this?"_

_Your hands are outstretched in front of you, reaching for the door to pull yourself out. But they lose power, lose strength, they get smaller. Your gun disappears. The safety is gone, the fear returns. Your money flies away. The possession is gone, the nothingness returns. The words sink in. The confidence is gone, the doubt returns. The people leave, the loneliness returns._

_The anger grows, the vengeance causes more decay, the pain twists deeper and more thoroughly, becoming more complex. The desires change, but remain the same as well, what is right and wrong becomes less clear, or rather less important._

_A breeze comes and blows out the candle, and something can be heard as it goes by._

"_I hate you." Is the first._

"_You are evil." Is the second._

_Pitch black is all that remains. A loud, slow creaking sound is heard. The door is closing. It locks out all the light, and locks everything else in._

* * *

><p>Jerrod's eyes snap open widely. If his arms weren't crossed as he sat, he may have flailed, drawing the attention of Damien and the pilot. Doing his best to keep his breathing quiet, he adjusted in the chair and closed his eyes again. He hoped he didn't fall asleep and have that dream again.<p>

_No more sugar before bed._

* * *

><p>Shepard sat quietly with the back of his head against the wall. He had awoken in this position, his eyes just opened slowly a few minutes ago. He could tell that Garrus and Miranda were asleep or at least being very quiet. He didn't know what to say about Legion, on standby maybe? Whatever it was, the geth showed no signs of stirring. It was for the best he thought; he didn't want to tell them that he had just experienced a very bad dream.<p>

* * *

><p>"Get up." Damien said.<p>

"Uh, what?" Jerrod asked groggily.

"We've arrived at the dreadnaught, so get up."

Jerrod noticed that the pilot was gone. He looked out the cockpit window and could see the broadside of the batarian dreadnaught. He looked over his shoulder in time to see the last of Shepard's crew; Miranda, being led out. He smiled toothily at the view as her backside disappeared around the corner.

"If you actually got up like I told you, you could get a better look at that." Damien said.

"I suppose you are right, as always Damien." Jerrod said, finally standing up.

"Just most of the time." Damien replied.

Jerrod slung his arm over the smaller man's shoulder, much to Damien's inner surprise and chagrin.

"Do you remember the first time we ever met Damien?" Jerrod asked as they walked.

"I remember it all." Damien replied.

Jerrod glanced down at him. Damien's face hadn't changed from the usual; blank and slightly bored. That aside, Jerrod could detect something else, the hidden meaning, the acknowledgment of past events, but he ignored it.

"To think that if Johnny wasn't there, we might not have become such fast friends. I'll be honest, having everyone die has saddened me so much. Marcus, Rico, Sean…."

"And Tyrone and Alexander?" Damien interrupted.

"Don't give me that. I loved them to, and I miss them, but they had to go."

Damien merely shrugged beneath Jerrod's arm.

"All I've got left is you and Johnny. Honestly, I was always a little jealous of you, what with Johnny making you second in command and all."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, I thought the old man Alexander favored you more, and Johnny thought you were more capable, more suitable to the job. He put so much trust in you for all those years."

Damien didn't like what he was hearing; he didn't like the angle Jerrod was getting at. He shrugged off Jerrod's arm and said something that he knew would hurt him, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"He trusted you more."

Jerrod slowed his pace a bit and started to look very thoughtful. What thoughts he was thinking Damien didn't want to know.

"I didn't botch that job on Mindoir Damien." Jerrod said a little louder than he had wanted to.

"I know you didn't."

Jerrod knew that was Damien's way of saying 'But you did do this…'

"But let's go, its about time the General paid us our dues.

* * *

><p>The batarian soldiers led the quartet down the long halls of the dreadnaughts, the conversations behind closed doors hushing as they went by and the dwellers saw them. Faces, helmeted or not, and four eyes a piece, in most cases, looked at one of them in particular with absolute contempt. As Shepard walked by, he could notice the soldiers' grips tightening on their pistols, shotguns, sub machine guns, assault rifles, and two of them even had snipers for some reason. Others merely clenched their fists, and one grabbed the butt of his knife handle.<p>

"You son of bitch!" Someone screamed, louder than normal maybe because of the confined space.

One of the batarian soldiers, the one who had the knife, punched Shepard in the face and knocked him to the ground. Shepard was cuffed and couldn't stop himself from falling, nor could he defend himself. Because of his angle, he couldn't see what was happening.

"Hold them back!" One of the guards escorting them ordered to the others.

The other two pointed their guns at Garrus, Miranda, and Legion to stop them from intervening. The guard who gave the order was struggling with the attacking soldier, who had now drawn his knife.

"Stand down soldier, right now!"

"I'm going to gut Shepard!"

"He is for the General; if you so much as scratch Shepard the General will gut you."

"I don't care! This monster doesn't deserve to live a single second longer all my friends and family are dead!" The attacker said emotionally.

"I know your pain, and he will get what's coming to him, but it isn't your duty."

Two more soldiers came to restrain the enraged attacker. The guard grabbed Shepard and lifted him to his feet. The group hurried on before any others lost their temper.

"My Grandparents, my brother and sister, my eighteen and five year old sons are all gone because of you! The only justice is that the council species know that their 'Hero of the Citadel' is murderous monster." The attacker said as they walked away.

Shepard always rationalized away his guilt. The Reapers were that close, he tried to warn the colony, the safety of the galaxy was at stake, it had to be done. It had to be done. It had to be done. It had to…..

Shepard looked over his shoulder to look at the soldier who had attacked him, his facial features barely able to be made out from the distance now. He hoped that he kept a neutral expression, and thought, as if the thought alone was enough, though saying it would doubtfully help much more, his real feelings about destroying the mass relay.

_I'm sorry._

"Hurry up." The guard said while shoving him.

They entered into a downward descending corridor that ended at a large door, with two people standing outside of it. The shorter one in silver armor stood straight with his arms crossed and the taller in black and red armor leaned against the door.

"Took you long enough." Jerrod said.

"I didn't see you get off the ship, how'd you get here so fast?" Shepard asked.

"You know me Johnny, I'm a trailblazer." Jerrod replied.

"You mean you practically sprinted through the side hallways to get here first. You were panting tow minute ago." Damien added.

Jerrod smiled and shook as he chuckled. Damien's face lightened up a little. Shepard felt the slightest twitch of a small smile tug at his lip for a second and he immediately wished that his hands were free so he could slap himself.

"Well Johnny, all three of us have been making someone wait very patiently, so let's get to it." Jerrod said.

He entered a code into the keypad of the door panel and it opened with a whooshing sound followed by a bright light pouring through the opening. Before Shepard's eyes could adjust to it he was hurried inside, the first of the group. When his eyes adjusted, he saw cells with kinetic barriers humming slightly, with the exception of one that hard a thick glass wall. Filling all of them were individuals, pairs, and trios of his crew and squad. He could notice his human crew members as being malnourished, and Donnelly had grown out his beard more than normal. In the center of the room stood a single person, a tall batarian in an elaborate uniform. Shepard guessed who he was instantly.

"Finally, Commander Shepard." General Zakman said with satisfaction.

"General Zakman right?" Shepard replied.

"I am. I'm finally meeting you after our little chat in that jail cell, courtesy of Kilik here. You're bigger than I imagined."

"And you are…" Shepard was cut off mid wise crack.

Zakman's hand, larger than a human's, squeezed around Shepard's mouth. Zakman threw Shepard to the ground with a snarl. The crew members in the cells all got up in protest, forgetting their tiredness and weakness for the moment.

"You are mistaken in thinking that you are on equal footing in my presence human. The fact that I haven't killed you yet is a blessing, but you may think differently when I'm through with you."

Zakman picked him up and slammed him against the wall front first.

"Did you get all those metals by roughing up a restrained person?" Shepard.

"Well that's the beautiful thing about these medals; I don't need to be fair. Besides, given your reputation, I believe you'll be honest enough to realize that you don't really deserve to be treated fairly now do you?"

Zakman eased off and Shepard pulled himself off the wall. He got a look a one of the people in the cells, Lieutenant Goldstein. Her arm was wrapped thickly in bandages. He looked around saw bruises from beatings, new scars, some small weight loss. Many of his crew members have been suffering for all this time. How much suffering would they have avoided if he had worked faster, smarter. While he shopped for guns and armor to protect himself, they were defenseless against these cowards.

"No, I don't deserve to be treated fairly. But I am the only one that does deserve any punishment. I acted alone on the mission where the mass relay was destroyed, none of my crew were involved."

"Shepard what the hell are you saying?" Garrus asked.

_Indeed. _Jerrod thought.

"I'm saying that you should let everyone go, and I'll stay. It might save you some trouble." Shepard said.

"Fuck that shit!" Jack swore.

"Not now Jack." Shepard told her.

"No she is right Shepard. We aren't going to leave you here." Tali added.

"Tali.."

"Don't bother Shepard, you ain't convincing anyone." Jacob said stubbornly.

"Dammit I'm trying to help all of you!" Shepard shouted.

"Enough!" Zakman shouted.

"You really think that you can cause me any trouble here Shepard? But I'll play your little game. Soldier, bring down the barriers." Zakman ordered one of the guards that walked the group in.

"Sir?"

"I said deactivate the barriers."

"But General…"

"Now." Zakman said dangerously.

The guard moved to the master control console and typed in the command key to bring down the barriers. One by one, the humming disappeared followed by the sliding sound of the door on Tali's cell coming down.

"All of you now have a chance. Your Commander here is offering to take the place of all of you. Right now you can leave. Neither I, nor any of my men will stop you. So just leave." Zakman said.

Jerrod looked around at all the now open cells. No one, not even the women that he had almost cut the arm off of stepped forward. None of them even considered the thought of abandoning him. Their loyalty, their love for him, it was so much like the old days.

"You've done it again Johnny." Jerrod spoke out, and everyone looked at him.

"You've gotten everyone to trust in you, to love you. They are a bunch of loyal cubs in your pride. But I wonder, how loyal are they?"

Jerrod started walking in front of each cell, looking into the eyes of the people who were in it.

"How loyal you all are to him. To serve with the Hero of the Citadel, the lone survivor of Akuze, the man who made it back from the suicide mission against the Collectors. It must be such an honor for you. Knowing Johnny, he probably talked to all of you, got to know all of you. One day, maybe, you'll tell your children or grandchildren that you knew John Shepard."

He had walked by all of the cells and stopped in the center of the room. Then he spat on the ground in anger.

"All of you are so superficial, you been so wrapped up in the limelight, swayed by deeds that benefit yourselves, seduced really."

He glanced at Miranda when he said seduced, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"How quickly will you turn away when you know him the way we do eh?" Jerrod said and gestured to himself and Damien.

"We won't." Miranda said.

Everyone turned to her, Jerrod especially.

"We will never abandon Shepard, no matter what. Scum like you could never know the kind of man he is."

"The kind of man he is!" Jerrod exclaimed.

He started walking quickly towards her.

"I'm tired of your mouth beautiful, so now I'm gonna plug it up."

The serrated black blade slid out of his gauntlet, and Goldstein twitched in metal pain.

"And guess what, I'm not using my co…" Shepard tackled Jerrod to the ground.

Shepard head butted him and then Jerrod flipped him over onto the ground. The blade rested against Shepard's throat with some pressure. Both of them breathed heavily despite not having have exerted much effort, emotion and memories of past events were the cause. Jerrod's eyes moved quickly between his blade upon Shepard's throat and Shepard himself, who stared right back at him. Jerrod recognized the look; Shepard would use it whenever he was displeased with something he had done. The look made him very uncomfortable.

"That's enough Kilik." Zakman said.

"Not nearly." Jerrod whispered as he got up.

"Well Shepard I must admit the loyalty of your crew is admirable. And I'll be honest, I would've considered just selling them, except for Hackett of course, because he is just as much of an offender with the relay incident as you are.

"Why don't you just go." Shepard whispered.

"What was that?" Zakman asked.

"Why don't you all just go!" Shepard said on the verge of tears.

He was speaking to all of his crew members directly, even if he wasn't looking at them.

"You don't need to stay here for me…no I don't want you to! All of you go, that's an order!" Shepard said.

He got his answer almost instantly. Tali took a step back in her cell and sat down. It resembled a stubborn child almost. Grunt was the second to follow, and he did the same as her. Pretty soon, one by one, his squad and crew members sat on the floor. Legion, Garrus, and Miranda would have done the same were it not for the guards. Even Hackett was sitting.

"I'm glad you all didn't show this kind of determination back at the outpost, it would have made things tiresome." Damien said.

"Speaking of tiresome, I suppose the two of you will be expecting your pay now." Zakman said.

"Aye." Jerrod said.

"It would be nice." Damien said.

"Well, this is my issue. You Kilik, I can't really so anything against you. You've brought me Shepard. But you Mr. Crenshaw, well you performed your job rather poorly if you ask me."

"Well it's a good thing I didn't ask then." Damien retorted.

"Hmm, well you did manage to capture Hackett and the majority of the dangerous crew, but if you had caught the turian, geth, and the two humans then Shepard wouldn't have been broken out of the prison that Kilik had placed him in. So you cost me more men and resources. If you ask me, are business is concluded."

"Well it's a good thing I did not ask you then." Damien said again, this time with both of his tempests drawn.

The three guards immediately aimed at Damien. Damien kept one tempest on Zakman, and the other on one of the guards. To the surprise of the other two guards, Jerrod drew his pistol and put it against the head of one of them and placed his blade near the neck of the other.

"What the hell is this Zakman? Damien came through for you." Jerrod said.

"He came through only partly." Zakman said.

"I lost good men during that operation and caused a prison riot, and I'll be damned if I walk away with nothing." Damien said.

"Do you really think you'll make it off this ship if you kill me?" Zakman asked.

"I think about a lot of things." Damien replied.

"Then think about this, I'll give you another chance. I want you to kill Shepard." Zakman said.

Damien looked at Shepard, and after a few moments pointed both his guns at him.

"Not like this!" Zakman warned.

Damien shot the General an annoyed look and holstered both his weapons.

"Well then give me a time and place." Damien told him.

The General smiled inwardly. He turned to the guards and made them lower their weapons.

"Take them both to the Gauntlet."

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry for being gone so long again. It's been impossible to find time to get away from school, and the homework and exams are really killing my desire to right, which is why I'm not particularly happy about this chapter. Anyway now you've seen the rift widening between the General and Jerrod, and it's only gonna get worse, next chapter especially I'd say. Hopefully you have also seen a little bit of how Jerrod's mind is damaged, and the things that he has shared with Shepard. Read, review, and enjoy.<em>


	17. Shark Cage

_I'm finally updating this son of a bitch. I plan to get things moving in earnest, this story may be starting to drag out I think. Prepare for violence, swearing, maybe even some tears, and some secrets being explained. Not all of them though, I still need you guys to come back._

* * *

><p>"Pilot, turn around and deactivate your engines now!" Someone said into the communicator.<p>

"Sorry pal, no can do." Joker said to himself.

He expertly veered the stolen craft out of the way of a shot fired from one of the pursuers.

"That was a warning shot, you've got one chance to comply."

"That was a warning shot? I thought a pyjack was messing around with your gun controls. Why don't you actually try to hit me and I'll give it some thought, if you can stop flying like a cross eyed bat." Joker replied through his communicator.

Shots were coming at him in volleys now from the five fighters that were pursuing him. Joker easily avoided all of the shots while getting even farther ahead of them. After about five minutes of avoiding being blown out of space, the Charon mass relay finally came into view.

"This is almost too easy." Joker said to himself.

"Attention pursuit team, SSV Vietnam and her wolf pack are here to assist." Joker heard through his communicator.

Just by looking out the cockpit window Joker could see a group of four frigate class ships join with the fighters in their chase.

"Shit!" Joker cursed.

His approach to the Charon mass relay now was more at risk. He couldn't outrun the frigates, so he had to make the jump in the relay before they caught up to him. Suddenly, the mass relay started to crackle with energy, but it wasn't from his approach. Something was coming out. A cruiser, the SSV Victoria exited from its own mass relay jump.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Joker exclaimed as he veered upwards.

He had been approaching too fast to give the cruiser much clearance. He was now just skimming over the hull, threatening to crash into it with even half a second of inattention. He saw some crewmen and what appeared to be the captain mouth surprised curses as he flew past the bridge.

"My thoughts exactly." He said to himself.

Once Joker passed the flaming engines of the cruiser, he flew into the mass relay and was on his way to what was left of the Viper Nebula, with the pursuing fighters and frigates on his tail and the cruiser starting to turn back into the relay.

* * *

><p>The Gauntlet was a large section of the ship that was shaped like a box, with four walls running vertically around it. It spanned multiple decks, going up and down. Just looking at it brought on feelings of claustrophobia.<p>

"Grand isn't." General Zakman stated.

"When I had this ship built, I sacrificed crew space for this. Just another way to make our prisoners welcome."

"It doesn't look like much." Damien stated.

"You hold that thought, take Mr. Crenshaw over to his entrance port." Zakman ordered one of his soldier.

Damien locked eyes with Shepard for a moment before being lead away.

"You know Shepard, you should consider yourself lucky." Zakman said venomously.

"And why do you figure that?"

"Any other officer would have merely been torturing you ruthlessly right now. I'm being merciful and giving you a fighting chance."

"And you will uphold your end of the bargain?"

"I will do what needs to be done."

Shepard wasn't so naive as to believe that the general would really let his crew go. This whole thing was just biding time for Joker to get here. Shepard wasn't thrilled about having to fight Damien, but if it meant protecting his crew, even just little while longer, then he would do everything he could. Maybe he could reason with Damien? He doubted it, Damien seemed very adamant about getting his pay.

"Now, if you please.." Zakman gestured with his hand to the now open entrance into the gauntlet.

Shepard approached it and looked all around. It was darker inside, and there didn't seem to be any practical form of getting out or around. The walls were flat, the pathways before him were plain, it was essentially just a big cage.

"Have fun." Zakman said as the door closed.

* * *

><p><em>Why does he just keep staring?<em>

Jerrod lightly banged his fist against the wall as he leaned against it. He had been hanging around in the brig for half an hour now, ignoring the changing shifts of guards as they did the same to him. For the better part of the time, he had been inspecting all of the cells containing the different crew members, and had since been lingering on her the longest. She crossed her arms under he breasts and was slowly pacing back and forth, trying her best not to look at him. Occasionally she slipped up and gave him a look, and he found her eyes every time. He looked, sad? Sad, and like he wanted to say something. The pacing made her more tense and so she leaned against the glass wall of her cell, her back now to him. She wished that someone else like Garrus was in the cell with her so that she could at least look at something other than white walls...

A light tapping on glass.

_Oh, please no..._

"Care to talk?" Jerrod asked from the otherside.

Tali ignored him, desperately hoping he would get his sick kicks elsewhere.

"Can you hear me in there?" Jerrod asked.

Tali ignored him still. Jerrod used his omni tool to open the glass wall. Tali hadn't expected this and couldn't stop herself from falling over backwards, and into Jerrod's waiting arms.

"Careful." Jerrod said playfully.

Tali squirmed out of his arms like an unruly child.

"What are you trying to do?" Tali asked him defensively.

Now all the crew was helplessly watching Tali being subject to whatever sick mind game Jerrod had in mind.

"I'm trying to talk to you, you know how to from what I can plainly hear. I enjoy that adorable accent."

"The last time you and I had a conversation, it ended badly."

Jerrod turned to Lieutenant Goldstein and waved to her, smiling toothily. She quickly turned away.

"I promise; no blood this time." Jerrod said and offered Tali his hand in affirmation.

Tali didn't take it, and he shrugged non chalantly.

"You can leave us alone." Jerrod told the guard.

"No I can't, I dont take orders from you human."

"Will you take five hundred credits from me?"

"Will I what?"

Jerrod produced a credit chit loaded with five hundred credits and tossed it to the guard, whom caught it awkwardly between his chest and rifle.

"I, I can't..."

Jerrod tossed another credit chit at the guards head and it bounced into his hands.

"You can. Don't worry I won't snitch to Mr. General Zakman, go on." Jerrod said mockingly.

The guard left them, his guilt not strong enough to overcome his greed.

"Finally, it was getting kinda crowded in here." Jerrod said.

"That probably wasn't wise, you may need the help." Tali said as intimidatingly as she could.

"I don't see a gun on you, and you don't have that little knife in your boot anymore. Are you planning on getting physical with me? I'll be more than happy to oblige in that regard."

"I'm actually going to get intellectual with you. One on one I may not have a chance, but how about two on one, or three, or four, or five?"

Her omni tool flared to life and Jerrod was physically surprised.

"And you know how fast I can bring these barriers down." Tali said with odd satisfaction.

"Damn, I didn't expect this kind of tenacity from you. And I do know how fast you can deactivate the barriers; it isn't fast enough."

Jerrod reached behind his back and detached a grenade from his belt.

"This grenade has a five second fuse before detonation...

He activated the grenade and it started to beep.

"Make that four, and now three..."

He pressed down on the same button, halting the timer.

"You wouldn't blow yourself up just to get me." Tali said in an attempt to call a bluff she wasn't sure existed.

"Who's says I'm gonna blow the two of us up? Go ahead and bring down the barriers. Where should I toss it huh? Whoooops!" he said in an exaggerated child voice.

He tossed the grenade in the air and pretended to fumble with it. For a second and a half Tali's heart was in her throat as the timer on the grenade counted down more.

"Half a second left, that's cutting it a little closer than I'd like." Jerrod said.

"You're insane!" Tali shouted.

"I'm insane? You are the one that is threatening to start one hell of a prison riot just because I merely wanted to make some friendly conversation. And with Johnny working so hard to protect you all; do you really want to make his virtuous undertaking in vain?"

"That general isn't going to be letting anyone go." Tali stated.

"Probably not, but it's the thought that counts isn't it? Now come on, you are a nice girl and all I want is to talk."

Tali really didn't want to say anything to him, but it seemed at least a little bit more preferable to playing his sick mind games, especially when he had a grenade dangerously close to exploding. Cautiously and dreadfully, she deactivated her omni tool. Jerrod in turn placed his grenade back on his belt, and the specially designed holster reset the grenade timer.

"Why are you so interested in talking with me?"

"As I said before, I enjoy your accent. Also, you have been with Johnny longer than any of these others, well you and Scarface there." He said and pointed to Garrus.

"You seem more talkative, so talk to me,start from from the beginning."

* * *

><p>With the exception of a constant humming, the Gauntlet was deathly quiet. The path Shepard been traveling on branched off into three other paths, and the next one he chose did the same. The whole thing was a maze. The walls had no constant shape; some had ceiling pieces, others were just two walls on the sides, some instances there was no wall at all, just empty areas in the trail. The darkness made it hard to see anything. In the areas that were completely open, Shepard could see shapes of bodies walking behind the transparent material of the four giant walls boxing in the Guantlet. Most of them started crowding around, trying to get a good spot to watch.<p>

A sudden dip in the floor indicated that he was now walking downward, and the humming sound grew more intense. A few more twists and turns and Shepard saw a blue light reflecting off the walls. He cautiously turned the corner into a huge chamber, and the drive core greeted him. It was huge, much larger than even the Normandy's advanced drive core. Given the incredible size of all dreadnaughts, they called for oversized drive cores. Despite the easy blue glow and hum, the massive piece of equipment made Shepard more tense and cautious. It was making a lot of noise, and he was hunting, or rather being hunted by someone that was quieter than a mouse. It was blocking his line of sight, he couldn't afford to miss anything. Luckily he didn't, instead he noticed slight movement up ahead, a shadow being cast from the light as someone was making their approach into the chamber.

Shepard immediately crouched behind a wall and drew his shotgun. He leaned out just a little bit and saw Damien's back to him. He had one of his tempests drawn and appeared to be inspecting the area. Shepard stealthiy made his approach towards him. It seems Damien hadn't noticed him at all because he continued cautiously scouting out the area. Shepard was just a couple of feet behind him now, hidden behind another pillar. He stepped out and took aim with his shotgun. It was the perfect opportunity, but Shepard was reluctant to pull the trigger.

Could he reason with him? Despite everything he had now done, Shepard didn't want to kill him. He hadn't wanted any of them to didn't have any intention of killing Tyrone, Marcus was too unstable and killed himself, he accepted Rico's death to save his own life, he was complety shocked by Alexander's death, and he only detonated Sean's grenade because he was about to kill Joker and Miranda. Damien may have been responsible for Hackett and the majority of his crew being captured, but killing him right now, like this, it didn't seem right.

Jerrod, he was an entirely different story. Both Shepard and Jerrod could say that they owed each other some pain, and they would both be right.

Shepard blinked those thoughts away. Damien was here, and he needed to die. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Eyes still closed, he cringed at the blast of his shotgun. Something was amiss though, no splash of blood, no thump of a body hitting the ground. Shepard opened his eyes and saw Damien flickering with static; a hologram.

"Oh shit..." Shepard cursed as he instinctivrue turned around.

Damien came out of the passage way with one of his tempests and started firing. Shepards shields held up long enough for him to get into cover. As soon as he did he blind fired at Damien. Damien knew not to get to close as even a blind shot from a shotgun could damage him. He took cover on the other side of the wall that Shepard was.

Both of them breathed steadily and started to move around the cylindrical cover, hugging against it. Both their shadows were cast against the metal surroundings by the pulsating light of the drive core, growing larger as they stretched from their hosts that wound around the pillar. The overall bulkier one, Shepard's, was tight into itself and betraying his emotional shock. He had prepared to kill Damien, pushed aside the past to give the future a chance, and he shot a damn hologram!

Damien's shadow, smaller but more high profile, exuded his professionalism and mastery of, or suppression, or maybe even a utter lack of emotion.

"I see you haven't changed Damien, if you're still using that projection trick."Shepard said.

"You haven't changed either, you took too long to take the shot. You and Marcus had that problem, Alexander used to chew you out about it."

"I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Everything." Shepard said solemnly.

They both now occupied the position opposite to their previous one.

"Do you remember what I told you about thinking about things, especially everything?" Damien asked him.

"Too much thinking gives you a headache." Shepard replied.

"Exactly." Damien stated.

"Sometime after that you also told me pull my head outta my ass and lead my half of the team because we had a job to do."

"Yes I did. Thinking is fine, usually necessary, but this thing you do is too much."

"It's called being human. Not everything is a job." Shepard insisted defensively.

"This is." Damien retorted quietly.

"I hesitated because I don't want to kill you Damien. I didn't want any of you to die!"

"But you took the shot anyway. You may not want to, but you are going to try and kill me because your crew needs you to."

"And you going to try and kill me, for money." Shepard said as if that was the extent of Damien's existence.

A small silence lingered for a few moments, made immeasurably longer by the current state of events. All of the bystanders watching with rapt attention behind the massive glass like walls felt a range of emotions. Most were bored, expecting an almost gladiatorial battle. Others were angry that two humans, and especially Shepard were even given the opportunity to fight.

"I'm going to try and kill you, John, because I need to." Damien finally said.

Damien pushed off from the pillar and back pedaled toward some more cover as he fired a Shepard. Shepard rapidly fired his shotgun and advanced on Damien's position. Before either of them could land a shot, jets of fire erupted from concealed turrets in the ceiling and walls and floor, and started towards in their direction.

"What the hell?" Shepard exclaimed at the nearing inferno.

Sensing his distraction, Damien came out of cover and unloaded on Shepard.

As soon as he heard the slightest beginning of a gun shot, Shepard's adrenaline started pumping rapidly and he immediately made a move for one of the exits out of the chamber. He felt the shots slam into him, like he was being swarmed by metal bees. As he moved away the shots became less accurate and less damaging, but enough of them hit to take down his shields. His armor only deflected so much before the shots penetrated. By the time he had reached safety, his shoulder, right forearm, and one of his ribs had a hole in them.

Damien waited a few seconds more to be sure that Shepard wasn't lying in wait to ambush him; all the while the gushing flames were almost upon him. He vaulted over his low cover and sprinted towards the exit Shepard had taken. The fiery light reflected off of his silver armor as it almost engulfed him. He practically squeezed between the flames as he made it into the corridor. Inspecting the immediate area, he didn't see Shepard anywhere.

"A word of warning to the two of you..." Zakman's voice boomed over hidden speakers.

"The Gauntlet is filled with traps like the one you have just witnessed. I advise you to keep your wits about you." Zakman said before laughing over the speakers.

Damien noticed that his arm had been caught in the flames and was on fire.

"Thanks for the heads up." He said sarcastically to himself as he smothered the flames against the wall.

He noticed something on the floor, a puddle of red. It ran and was broken into drops all long the floor ahead of him. Holstering one of his tempests, Damien started skullking down the hall, keeping his eye on the trail of blood.

* * *

><p>For the entire time she spoke, Jerrod hadn't said a word. Tali recounted all of her time with Shepard, from him saving her from Saren's agents on the Citadel to their assault on the Collector base, and everything in between. To her surprise, she had actually settle down while telling the stories. She rememberd most of these events fondly because of the friends she had made. Certain things she left out, mostly all of the things Shepard had done for his crew members, as well as his efforts to stop Project Overlord and helping Liara with the Shadow Broker. Whenever she described a scene about Shepard specifically, Jerrod became so focused he looked like a statue. During any other time he looked almost soft, he even smiled a little at times. His grey eyes and scars on his face and neck didn't seem to be so disfiguring. If Tali didn't know how cruel he was, she may have considered him a normal and even handsome person.<p>

"And then we came to Earth, and all this started." Tali told him.

"Rachni, Geth and Collectors oh my!" Jerrod stated enthusiastically.

"Indeed. Is your curiosity satisfied?" Tali asked.

"I hardly call it curiosity, I knew all of it already. I just wanted to hear it from someone like you."

"What do you mean someone like me?"

"Someone that has been with Johnny since he put up this facade of his."

"A facade? Shepard is who he is." Tali said.

Jerrod snorted at her defensiveness.

"I hope you can forgive me if I don't take you seriously for saying that. You believe you know a man who's first name you can't even use. And after all he did for you, saving you from exile because of what your father did."

Tali's heart dropped and her composure was shattered.

"How do you know about that?" She said shakingly.

"I find it very funny that I haven't done anything to you, and yet I have hurt you so badly just by knowing something." Jerrod said smiling.

"How do you know that!" Tali asked angrily.

Jerrod started walking around the brigg, approaching the cells and staring at the captives within.

"The same way I know that Jennifer, or Tats as I prefer, was experimented on like a rat in a Cerberus facility." He said while smiling at Jack, who showed amazing restraint by clenching her fist with biotic energy.

"And the same way that I know that Daydreamer went off his rocker and killed some very nasty criminals because they made a pincushion out of his wife..." He said to Thane, citing a Drell's memory capabilities in his nick name.

One by one Jerrod went around the room revealing his knowledge of every member of Shepard's squad. He knew all of it in as much detail, and in some cases even greater detail than they did. Soon only Miranda and Garrus remained.

"The same way I knew about you and your father, and your little 'sister', beautiful." He said to Miranda.

"And finally, the same way I know about your little team of vigilantes running amok on Omega, at least before Sidonis sold you all out. Maybe you should have been more sure about his character during the job interview, eh Scarface?" He said to Garrus.

"Who the hell are you?" Garrus asked.

"I know your every secret, while you fumble in the dark." Jerrod stated cryptically, but everyone knew what he meant instantly.

"You worked for the Shadow Broker." Tali concluded.

"Yes, hell I practically was the Shadow Broker because of all the things I learned. After Johnny went insane, I found myself without employment, without a place. But I found it again. It was enjoyable enough, I was the Shadow Brokers top agent, the shadow of the shadow if you will."

"So that's what this is about." Garrus said.

"Excuse me?" Jerrod asked.

"You don't really care about the feelings these Batarians have, nor is this about the money. Shepard killed the Shadow Broker, and you want revenge."

Jerrod was silent and unassuming. This made his sudden growl of rage and flared grey eyes much more surprising, but not nearly as much as what followed it. He reached back and plunged his arm, the one that his black blade extended out of into the kinetic barrier, and to everyone's surprise, it went through! Garrus hadn't anticipated this and wasn't prepared when Jerrod grabbed him by the collar of his armor and pulled him into the barrier. The barrier was designed to deliver painful shocks to anyone that came into contact with it, and Garrus was receiving a continuous dosage.

"You cocky bastard, don't you dare think you know what the fuck this is about!" Jerrod roared as he held Garrus against the barrier.

Tali didn't waste anytime in bringing up her omni tool. She targeted the barrier of Garrus's cell and began the deactivation sequence. Five seconds, for five excruciating seconds she she waited on the verge of tears as Garrus was electrocuted. Once the barrier finally went down a surprised and even more irate Jerrod dropped Garrus carelessly to the ground and made a move for here.

Essentially defenseless, Tali used her omni tool and in an act of desperation targeted all the barriers at once. Even her supreme skills needed a little more time to deactivate so many barriers at once, time she didn't have.

Jerrod was upon her and grabbed her arm, looking for the omni tool module. Tali vainly punched him in the face. Losing patience, Jerrod made his blade slide out and he made one clean slice along her arm. It made a horrible screeching sound as metal scraped against metal, and Tali gasped in pain because he had gone too deep a one point and penetrated the suit, cutting her. Her omni tool hologram vanished, indicating that he had damaged it.

"You are a pesky little thing aren't you." Jerrod stated.

Tali tried to pull out of his grasp, but he merely twisted her arm so that he could look at her wound.

"Sorry about that, I was rushing." He said with what sounded like sincerity, which made it more disturbing.

Looking at his face, Tali could tell that he was contemplating something bad. Very bad.

"You know what I just realized? I haven't given you a nickname!"

He smiled as if he were a friend of hers, retracting his blade and approaching her with open arms.

"It's that suit. It's beautiful, but it isn't you. Why don't you take off the helmet?"

Tali didn't say anything. She backed away from him, and he stepped closer.

"Oh come on, don't be shy. Here, if you are worried about germs I'll take off these gauntlets."

Jerrod slid his left gauntlet off his hand and let it drop to the ground with a hard thud. His hand was scarred, and looked as though it had been severely burned at one point. Two of the fingers didn't rest as straight as the others, indicating they had been broken and hadn't healed properly. He then slid off his right gauntlet, and the sight was shocking.

From what could be seen, his entire forearm and downward was a cybernetic arm. It's construction was amazing, it was almost the perfect shape of a real hand. The fingers moved exactly like real ones would. Midway up the forearm, a thin open slot could be seen, this had to be where that blade came out off.

"Like it? The Shadow Broker really takes care of their own. I had to get it because of Johnny, but thats a story for another time. Now, the helmet."

Jerrod advanced on Tali until she was cornered. Practically pouncing on her, Jerrod pinned her by the throat and started to remove her mask.

Tali fought to get away. She turned her head in her helmet as if that would somehow stop things. For a Quarian, this was akin to rape. A small burst of air rushed in from the sides, her helmet was loose. Once it was gone she felt Jerrod's hot breath on her face. Realizing that it was pointless she opened her eyes and stared at him hatefully. Jerrod on the otherhand was bewildered.

"Wow..." He said.

Despite her livid expression, Jerrod couldn't help but admire her.

"You're beautiful...those eyes are like pearls. That's it, Pearly." He said happily.

He cupped her face with both his hands. He frowned at his robotic one.

"I guess I can understand a little about how living in that suit must be like. Not feeling anything...but this one still works fine." He lifted her chin with his real hand.

To Tali's horror, he started leaning in. She tried to move again but now he was started to choke her with his robotic hand.

"You don't have a scent..." He said while leaning in even more.

"Don't even think about it you son of a bitch!" Someone yelled.

Seemingly too enthralled by his dominance of Tali, Jerrod ignored this and was taken off guard when a weak Garrus jumped on his back and wrapped his arms around his neck in. Jerrod was pulled off of Tali, who slumped to the ground coughing. Garrus was squeezing as hard as he could, quite literally trying to brake Jerrod's neck. With his eye bulging and unable to breath, Jerrod backed into the closest wall, slamming Garrus into it. Garrus refused to let go, and it took several more hard slams before he shook Garrus off.

With Garrus on his knees, Jerrod viciously punched him, alternating between him real and mechanical hands. He then lifted Garrus's head and then he pressed his fingers in the flesh between Garrus's mandibles. Garrus refused to yell in pain, and instead fought through the pain.

"Is that all you've got?" Garrus mocked.

"Not even close, but I'm not going to brake a sweat over you Scarface."

Jerrod kneed Garrus in the face, almost knocking him out. Jerrod dragged him to a cell, Tali's cell, and dragged him into it. He then left and moved Tali into the cell with him.

"You've got one hell of a boyfriend Pearly, why don't you keep him company?"

He left the cell and kicked her mask into it, creating a thin crack on it. Tali ignored and crouched next to Garrus, checking him for any injuries.

"And hold this for me!"

Jerrod tossed a small object into the cell with them and closed the glass barricade. It was his grenade, ticking down from five seconds.

Unable to prevent the explosion, Tali pulled Garrus close to her and closed her eyes, waiting for the explosion and death. After more than five seconds passed, she confusedley opened her eyes. The grenade just laid there, and then the cruel, horrible realization donned on her. It was a dummy grenade, the entire thing was a bluff, and she could have prevented it. She couldn't hold back anymore, and a single tear ran down her cheek as she already felt the fever coming on and heard Jerrod's satisfied laughter.

* * *

><p>The once quiet maze of the Gauntlet was now filled with the groans, clicks and clacks, and whirs of hidden machinery and undoubtedly more death traps. Shepard had suffered three separate wounds. None of them were lethal, but with no medi gel they pained him greatly. The route he traveled on had taken him back upwards, even farther up than he started at because the hum of the drive core was almost too quiet to hear.<p>

He stopped for a second and leaned against the wall. He couldn't even cover his wounds because they were on his back. Something behind him started to move, catching his attention. A portion of the ceiling came down and turned vertically, creating a wall blocking the way he had come. Sharp spikes then protruded for them and the wall started to move forward, slowly but quickly gaining speed.

Groaning in pain and frustration, Shepard sprinted away from it. Combining his injuries, the increasing speed of the spiked wall, and that he was running on an incline made this no easy feat. The screech of whatever tracks the wall was running on got much louder when it was practically on his heels. The ground he was running on began to even out and it was easier for him to outpace the spikes, although slowing down now would inevitably lead to his impalement. Rallying his reserves of energy, Shepard gunned it and passed through the doorway

The spiked wall slammed into the too narrow doorway, stopping it from coming but also sealing off the only visible entrance or exit into the room. Aside from the new lethal decor, the room was plain except for a large window. Shepard approached it and had a birds eye view of the area he had come from, among others. A sound of something moving alerted him, and he turned to see if anymore traps were activating. He saw none, and growing more puzzled and anxious at the noise, he looked out window again to see if anything happening outside was causing the noise.

Instead of a trap, he saw something coming out of the ceiling behind him in a reflection. He dove to the side and Damien's shots perforated the window in his place. Rolling onto one knee, Shepard returned fire with his shotgun. Damien dismounted his perch from the ceiling and turned in mid air. Shepard took advantage of the close quarters and went on the offensive. The spread of his shotgun blew the tempest out of Damien's hand and wounded his arm. Another shot destroyed the second tempest. Dodging the third shot by rolling, Damien tackled Shepard into the fractured glass, causing it to shatter. Shepard had to drop his shotgun in order to prevent himself from falling out. After steadying himself, he raised both his fists and brought them down together on Damien's back, making him back off. Shepard moved away from the precarious edge and the two of them circled each other.

"How did you manage to work your way in here?" Shepard asked.

"I was on your trail for awhile, but it oddly ended on the other side of that pointy wall there. This Gauntlet is amazing though, one door closes and another literally opens."

As soon as he had finished speaking Damien attempted to roundhouse Shepard. He dodged it and tried to return with a straight punch. Damien expertly blocked it and delivered one of his own at the same time, snapping Shepard's head back. He followed up with a flurry of attacks; three quick punches to the gut and head and then an up kick, almost knocking Shepard over. Shepard retreated a few steps to compose himself.

"You haven't missed a step Damien."

"You never learned them." He rebutted arrogantly.

Shepard knew what he was in for. Just as fighting Sean was a futility of strength, fighting Damien was a futility of skill. It had alwaysbeen that way.

Shepard moved in again with a typical boxing stance; tucked in head and raised hands. Damien on the other hand had no stance at all, he just stood laxly. He still dodged and blocked Shepard's attacks and his own came out of nowhere.

"You've gotten slower John. Your drell friend was more adept at this, but he thought his biotics would tip the odds in his favor. His lesson was explosive, and now he is caged up with the rest of your groupies." Damien mocked.

Damien went in for a haymaker punch. Shepard spun and let the punch go right under his arm, which travel up the length of Damien's and collided with his chin, elbow first. The unexpected spinning elbow almost made him fall down, but he managed to go forward with his momentum, and the fighters had switched positions.

"Hit a nerve did I?" Damien said with exasperation.

"You've been getting on them for awhile." Shepard said angrily.

"You know what the worst things is? Your crew is locked up, and the two of us are too busy here to keep Jerrod in line."

Damien's taunt was both an angering and terrifying point. With a renewed sense of urgency, Shepard attacked again.

Punches, elbows, knees, kicks, grappling, Damien outclassed him in all of these. Shepard's only real advantage was his greater size. Despite this, he found himself on the ground with Damien clutching right leg in a leg lock.

"I would have preferred to have just shot you John. It would have been quick and clean. But you just had to push it to this; wasting time, so much pain, me having to break your leg now." Damien said as he twisted Shepard's leg even more.

Shepard tried as hard as he could to pull his leg free, but Damien was holding him down with his own legs.

"For what it's worth, if things hadn't gone done the way they did on Mindoir, I would have stuck around." Damien said.

Suddenly, the whir of machinery returned. Out of holes lining the walls dropped hand sized metal balls. They dropped out until they formed a border of the room, and Shepard and Damien were right in the middle of the line. Starting from the first ball drop, they started to detonate. The explosions caused powerful shockwaves and ear splitting noise; sonic grenades.

Knowing that their position was hazardous, Damien released the leg lock and got to his feet, but too late. The grenades near them exploded, tossing both of them around like dolls as the rest of the grenades detonated.

Shepard opened his eyes with still blurry vision, and his sense of hearing was momentarily shot. He had been thrown towards the broken window, luckily not being thrown out. His hearing returned enough for him to hear a moan. He turned to it and saw a gruesome sight. The explosion had thrown Damien onto the edge of the spiked wall, with one impaled through his shoulder and another through his back and out of his midsection. Shepard unsteadily got to his feet and slowly approached Damien.

Despite having just been trying to kill each other, seeing Damien like this only made Shepard sad and, sorry? Damien coughed and blood dripped out from under his helmet.

"Well...this is inconvenient." Damien stated, with the kind of calmness and slight boredom that only he could be capable of in this situation.

"Inconvenient, you have a metal spike sticking out of you and you say this is inconvenient." Shepard said with a grief stricken chuckle.

"I could have been thrown out the window and that would have been worse. You know I don't like heights. You gonna get me off of this thing or what?"

The request seemed entirely inappropriate given their situation, but Shepard wasn't about to leave him like this, no matter what he had done. Shepard carefully started to pull Damien off the spikes. The only sound he made was struggled breathing. With a final pull and swishy sound of metal leaving flesh, Shepard pulled him off the spike and and sat him against the wall. Damien removed his helmet and put it next to him. His thin beard was dripping with blood.

"I really think I had you there, but you always were lucky like that. I guess you deserve the chance to get your people back." Damien said.

"It means more to fight for someone instead of yourself or your next paycheck." Shepard said this more harshly than he wanted to.

Damien reached near his collar, and from underneath it he pulled a length of chain from his neck. On the end of it was a locket. He offered it to Shepard and he took it, and what was inside rocked him to his core.

"I know." Damien said.

The locket had a picture of a boy and girl, they both looked very similar to each other, and to Damien.

"Twins, the girl is older by five minutes. Their mother died during child birth, and both of them were born prematurely. They both also contracted cancer when they were just one year old. I put them up for adoption before then though. In order to treat their cancer, I've been making payments their entire life. It's incurable, at least for now, but the treatments let them live normal lives. They don't even know they have it, they just think they are going in for check ups, standard stuff. They are fifteen now, that must be a weird age. The girl has some superficial views on life, but that's normal I suppose. The boy is a jock, nothing like me when I was his age."

"What are their names?" Shepard asked sadly.

"I never named them..." Damien asnwered with an empty chuckle.

"I thought it would be unfair; I wasn't raising them so why should I get to name them? Their foster parents named them Isabella and Maurice. Not my first choices at all, but what can you do?"

He coughed frantically, and blood splattered with every cough. Shepard straightened him out of his slump and gave him the open locket. Damien looked at it longingly. He didn't cry, that just wasn't in him, but Shepard could tell how attached he was.

"I've never met them John... I haven't seen them in person since they were babies still warm from the womb."

"Why didn't you go to them?"

"I wasn't cut out to be a dad, at least not at the time. I doubt I am right now. I figured I would just mess whatever situation they had up. Besides, I had the Reds and you guys..."

"Damien...I'm, I don't regret what I did, but I am sorry... about,"

"Stop John. Tell yourself that all you want, but you can't escape what has happened, what has been done. I don't think less of you for your situation now, I fell sorry for you."

The sounds of machinery again, this time flames erupted from the ceiling near the window. Also, the far wall fell back and revealed a way out of the room.

"Like I said, one door closes and another literally opens. You should go, you've still got a job to do." Damien told him coldly.

The flames started moving towards them. Shepard, with some reluctance stood up and moved towards the exit. Unsure of what to say, he merely turned to Damien for the final time.

"See ya around." He said with a shrug.

The shrug wasn't an indication of not caring, it was a symbolic gesture addressing Damien's personality. Damien smiled widely and laughed, something Shepard had never seen him do before.

"Oh man, uh, no you won't." Damien stated.

Shepard accepted this, it was the closest thing he was going to get from Damien to a goodbye now. As Shepard left through the doorway, Damien looked over the picture of his children. The only moment he acknowledged the flames was when the glare from their burning light made him squint his eyes.

"I should have brought some sunglasses." He muttered before he was consumed by the fire.

* * *

><p><em>I wrote this on an iPad, so sorry for any errors that I may have missed. Read, review, andelevate suggestios.<em>


	18. A New Beggining

Outside of a single personnel dormitory, a sharp tapping sound could be heard. The batarian soldiers passing by were entirely uninterested in it. Inside, Jerrod Killik sat at a simple desk, his armor piled on his bed like dirty clothes. He had on simple pants and a pair of socks, with nothing on his torso. Small earphones blasted a song into his head, it was called Bring Me To Life by Evanescence. He had always enjoyed classical music. While the music played at a deafening volume, his head bobbed to the silent taps of a sharp tool stabbing between his fingers. He had taken it from the Normandy armory, it was probably used for making delicate calibrations in weapons. Whatever it was, it was sharp enough to chip at the desk.

The stabbing was getting lazier and lazier as his mind changed focus. The well being of his hand apparently didn't take priority over the current situation. Zakman's slight betrayal was, while not entirely unanticipated, was still troublesome. Not to mention, it really pissed him the hell off!

The sudden anger made him accidently stab his middle finger. He gasped and quickly pulled his hand away. He giggled uncontrolably, it was part fear, part amusement. He brought the sharp tool up to his hand and stabbed at it, but he flinched away. He still giggled, but it was more angry now. Anger at his cowardice and weakness. He calmed his giggling and took deep breaths and stabbed his hand, without flinching this time. He was self satisfied, though it was half empty because he didn't feel it. He put the now bent tool onto the desk and rub at the scratch on his robotic hand. He laughed at himself for flinching, the memory of his hand sometimes overcame the reality of it.

Jerrod stood up from the chair and started walking around the room. It was hardly walking, he took two or three steps one way then turned around and went back. He brought up his omni tool and looked through all the collected data and records. This data should have been destroyed long ago, but nothing ever vanishes from the Shadow Broker. It was all here, every operation, every statistic. He even recovered some video feeds! Some of the finer details were absent, but he was able to fill in those blanks himself. His finger hovered over one file, this one effecting him more than all the other ones. His finger hesitantly approached it, he almost didn't dare to open it. Despite his reservations, he clicked on it and it opened. It was a picture. Four people were in it. To the farthest on the left, or right if one placed themselves in the scene, was Marcus. Still the smallest, the meekest. After him was John, standing tall and proud, smiling with his arm wrapped around that of the girl next to him. Anastasia had her usual closed smile. It conveyed all her happiness, she got it from her father. Finally came himself, he had his arm around Anastasia's shoulder and he was smiling like an idiot.

The picture left a pit in his stomach. He interpreted it as anger, betrayal, love and loss. He refused to consider it guilt. This onset of confused feelings made him reflect on the last seven years, and these few weeks in particular. He didn't like where his train of thought was going, he anticipated it and didn't like it at all. He sat back down at his desk and picked up the tool. He placed the blade on the desk and pounded it back into shape with his robotic hand. Once it was relatively straight, he went back to playing five finger fillet. He hadn't necessarily decided to do it with his real left hand this time, but he had already started and didn't stop. Another classical song started to play into his ears, Get Down With The Sickness by Disturbed. His focus was diverted, but the idea that what he had been doing was foolish, pointless, started to poison his thoughts. His mouth hung open as he tried to breath through extreme grief. He ground his teeth and stabbed the desk harder as tears began to gather in his eyes.

"Kilik!" A guard said banging on the door.

Jerrod was startled and stabbed his index finger. He almost jumped out of his seat and he threw the tool against the wall. He couldn't help giggling again, but this time it was much more awkward because of the pain. He inspected his finger. The greater strength of his robotic hand made the damage worse than if he had done it with a natural hand. Width wise, he sliced through a third of his index finger.

"Kilik!" The guard knocked again.

"What?" Jerrod asked with annoyance.

"The general wants you; Shepard has made it out of the gauntlet."

"Alright, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Don't keep the general waiting."

Jerrod heard the guard leave and then used his omni tool to apply some medi gel to his finger. Instead of armor, he pulled on simple combat boots and a loose t-shirt.

"Time to go congratulate the victor." He said to himself.

* * *

><p>Miranda blinked and rubbed her eyes, staring at this blurry blue barrier hadn't been good for her vision. She stood up and stretched her neck, sitting against the hard wall hadn't been good for her spine. Stepping just close enough to the barrier to see outside, she looked to all the cells. She couldn't believe what she saw. Everyone sat near the back of their cells, tired and defeated. She hadn't ever seen these people ever look so defeated.<p>

"They are like sheep without a shepherd." Admiral Hacket said from the cell next to her.

Miranda was surprised that he was even standing considering the injuries he received to his legs.

"No pun intended." He added.

Miranda had the slightest of smirks pull at her lips.

"I guess we've all gotten too accustomed to Shepard's leadership." Miranda said.

"Understandable, a man like Shepard is easy to look up to in times of duress."

"Yes, he is. Though these last few weeks have completely turned things on they're heads, Shepard has needed more support than any of us."

Miranda expected a reply from Hackett, but she got nothing.

"Admiral?"

"Can I tell you something ?" Hackett asked.

"Of course."

"I've got a feeling that, no matter what happens, things are going to get worse before they get better. I encourage you to be ready, and to remember that Shepard has indeed needed support, and he will continue to need it."

Neither of them said anything after that, Miranda thought that maybe the Admiral was being cynical. The truth was that Hackett was merely inferring what was going to happen, if the things that Shepard revealed to him was any evidence to go upon.

* * *

><p>Shepard had been standing outside this exit port for close to ten minutes now. Waiting like this was even more maddening than the game of cat and mouse, or lion and shark that he just played. The glow from his scars gave the dark corridor an eerie glow. Now that he noticed it, most of his scars had healed. The only one that remained was the one stretching from the edge of his eyebrow down his cheek. Had he gotten back to normal somehow while fighting and killing old friends? Before he could pursue that uncertain and frightful thought, the exit port opened with a whoosh and three soldiers with drawn weapons, along with General Zakman greeted him. He squinted his eyes against the light and took a step out.<p>

"Booo!" Jerrod yelled, he was hiding around the wall.

Shepard nearly fell over, but he saved himself by placing his hand on the wall. Jerrod laughed hysterically, and even one of the soldiers chuckled. He quickly shut his mouth when Zamkan gave him a look.

"Ha ha ha, oh god that's good." Jerrod said, wiping his eyes.

"If you are quite done Kilik." Zakman said.

"Alright, alright. Come on Johnny." Kilik said.

He tried to grab Shepard's shoulder, and Shepard defensively grabbed his hand and tore it away. Jerrod grabbed Shepard's wrist with his right hand and squeezed hard enough to let go. The shock of learning that Jerrod's entire right forearm and hand was robotic may have been what actually made him let go.

"It's a long story, your gonna hear about it soon." Jerrod told him.

He pulled Shepard forward and directed him towards the door, and two of the three guards joined them. Shepard stopped for a moment and turned to Zakman.

"I won your game General, what about my crew?"

"When you and Hackett lie broken, and your deaths ignite the war brewing between the Hegonomy and the Alliance, then they will be set free. I will even give them a thirty second head start before I try to vaporize their ship."

One of the guards nudged Shepard out the door, and the group of four started their walk down the long hall.

"So how did it happen?" Jerrod asked.

"How did what happen?" Shepard asked.

"How did you kill Damien?"

"He is dead." Shepard stated.

"Well...did he suffer?"

"You would have liked that wouldn't you? I'm not going to humor you Jerrod."

"Your going to humor me whether you like it or not. This is our stop."

They stood outside at the end of a dead end hall. The door opened to reveal what looked like an interrogation room. A simple table, two simple chairs, a simple light. Simply put, the room was unremarkable. The two men that now sat inside were quite the contrary.

Shepard and Jerrod sat quietly across from one another, with Shepard leaning back in his seat and Jerrod leaning forward and tapping his metal fingertips on the metal table. Both of them had trouble meeting the eyes of the other. The first to crack was Jerrod.

"Sooooo..." He said, making an extreme exaggeration of the awkwardness.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Shepard asked.

"I..."

"Is this your idea of a joke? Playing with the lives of others and then acting like this is just some...some get together? Who the hell do you think you are?

"Who the fuck do you think you are? I didnt turn my back on everything and everyone I knew just to go prancing about like.."

"Is that what this is about? You are placing the entire galaxy at risk and for what? Revenge? Revenge because I wanted a better life for myself, that I believed we all could have a better life, that I didn't go along with that psychotic plan?"

"Call it closure." Jerrod said simply and quietly.

Shepard's eye twitched at that. If he were locked in a room with anyone else, he may have been trying to kill them right now. He rationalized that he was holding back because Joker was on his way here, but the it was much more than that. Like it or not, he needed this as much as Jerrod.

"Now listen to me Johnny. I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do, what I've done already, I think you might like it. But, before I can do that, I need to go over a few things with you. Maybe these can jog your memory?"

Jerrod used his omni tool to bring up all the files and records that he salvaged while working with the Shadow Broker. Hundreds of statistics; robbery, extortion, vandalism, smuggling, murders. Faced with the overwhelming and once thought to be forgotten knowledge, Shepard was thrust back twenty three years.

"Like I said, you are going to humor me. Whether you like it or not."

* * *

><p><em>I'm not very happy about this chapter, I think it is boring and short. However, I'm using it to show a major transition in the story. The next three or four chapters are essentially going to be big flashbacks. If you are wondering why I used those two songs, it is because I love them and I feel they due capture some of the themes of this story. Hopefully it will make more sense as I go. Read, review, and enjoy.<em>


	19. No Turning Back

"Hold up." Alexander said in a hushed voice.

He leaned up against a graffitied wall, and John was close behind him. Near the exit of the dirty alleyway they were in, five men waited next to two hover craft. They were dressed similarly to several of the dead men that they had left behind.

"We can't just try and walk by, they are expecting only certain people to come out." Alexander suspected.

John tried to take a better look, but Alexander grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back, slamming him into the wall negligently. John was a tough kid, but he was still an eight year old with a gunshot wound in his shoulder, and a whimper of pain came out like a squeak.

"Get ready..."

"For what?" John asked.

Alexander picked up a rock from the ground and threw it out across the street. It broke through the window of a store down the street. The men moved off to inspect the disturbance.

"Let's go!" Alexander said.

The man and boy scurried out of the alleyway and up to the unattended hovercraft. Alexander pulled at the latch on the door of one, and it opened.

"Dumbasses." Alexander said snidely.

He pulled his pistol from his belt and handed it to John.

"What do I do with this?" John asked.

"What do you think genius? If they come back too soon, you blow their damn heads off." Alexander told him.

"But I..."

Alexander wasn't listening, he had his head underneath the controls of the hovercraft. John kept an eye on the street, he didn't see any sign of the men they had distracted. Carrying the gun made his shoulder hurt more, so he switched hands. He could hear Alexander fumbling around with parts and wires, quietly cursing now and then. John looked back into the alley they had come from. He thought that he should just leave, drop the gun and run for it. For some reason he couldn't though. Was it because he was afraid what would happen if the other men had found him? Maybe, but he didn't know why they would want him for anything. Was it because he was afraid of Alexander's reaction to him leaving? Also maybe. Was it because he didn't just want to go back to the orphanage, to that dreadful woman 'taking care' of him and the other worthless unwanted children?

He swallowed down his pain and switched the pistol back to his dominant hand, despite the weight it put on his wounded shoulder. He definitely didn't want to go back. He jumped at the sound of the hovercraft coming to life, dust being pushed out from under it.

"Beautiful." Alexander said victoriously.

The owners of the vehicle must have heard, because John heard swearing and the thumps of running boots.

"Get in." Alexander told him.

John hesitated. The men were getting closer, he could see them now. The gun shook in his weak hand, and he looked different ways. Ways to get away. Then he looked at the gun, too big for his hand right now...

"Get in lad!" Alexander yelled, extending his hand.

John blinked away his indesicive childishness, and took Alexander's hand. He hoisted John up into the passenger seat and flew the vehicle away, leaving some very angry men down below.

"Fucking cocksuckers, trying to do me in like that..." Alexander said angrily.

John sat silently next to him. He felt too tired to say anything.

"You almost got us killed down there, the way you were just standing there like an idiot."

John sank into his seat, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"What's your name anyway?"

John opened his mouth, but no words came.

"Hey, I'm talking to...oh crap." Alexander said after noticing how much John was bleeding.

The wounded boy managed to mutter 'John' before sleep took him.

* * *

><p>John awoke in a big bed, a simple bed but bigger than he really needed. He had a comfortable pillow, a warm blanket, and silence. Normally he would have woken up to coughs,whines, and crying from the other orphans. That brought his attention to the room he was in; it wasn't the orphanage. This room was smaller than the one the orphans shared, but was much more spacious with just one child. It was plain, no drawings on the wall or scratches from people and things bumping into them. Another bed was pushed against the wall, parallel to his.<p>

John sat up to find his clothes were different also. He had on a clean long sleeved shirt, and cargo pants. He swung his legs out and his sock covered feet hit the floor with a soft pat. While he listened for any sounds, he felt his shoulder. It was tender, but cleaned and stitched. He approachd the door and when it opened he looked ou into the hall cautiously. Like a security camera he panned his head both ways. A child alone in the mean streets of the lower city learned to be aware of everything.

Stepping out into the hallway, he looked out a nearby window. He could see some recognizable places, a restaurant that remained open despite the health inspector's persistence, a hover craft parked that for as long as he could remember had never left that spot, and a wall with a skull and a blood red '10' in the center of the forehead painted onto it. He was in Reds territory.

He knew about the Reds, one of the biggest, and toughest, gangs in the city. Despite that, they weren't seen extorting or bullying people nearly as much as the other gangs.

"What you looking at?" Someone asked him.

Jumping slightly from surprise, John turned his head from the window to find a girl behind him. She had short brunette hair, it just barely came below her head. Her eyes were blue, and she was a little shorter than him. She wore a friendly and genuine smile, along with curiosity.

"Um, nothing." John told her.

"Really? Liar."

She pushed past him to peak out the window.

"Okay I guess you weren't lying. But you shouldn't be outta bed right now."

"I don't need a kid telling me what to do." John said smugly.

She punched him in the shoulder, right where he was shot. John tried hard to hold in his pain, but he ended up looking silly when his cheeks inflated like balloons.

"That's why you should've stayed in bed. And how can you call me a kid? What are you, seven?"

"Eight." John said, rubbing his shoulder

"Ha! I'm nine!" She said triumphantly, and she stuck her tongue at him.

Despite his throbbing shoulder, John found himself smiling. This girl was...charming. And cute, he supposed.

"Well since you're already up, come with me."

"Where?" John asked, following her.

"My dad wanted to talk to you when you woke up, he should be in his office."

John wasn't exactly sure where he was or whether or not it was a good idea to stay here, but honestly did he really have somewhere else to be? The eight and nine year old walked down the halls of a building that belonged to an infamous gang until they came to a pair of double doors. The girl suddenly stopped, John bumped into her slightly. He himself was a little annoyed, but she instead giggled, and he couldn't hold a scowl.

"Okay hold on a sec..." She said.

She was staring at him, his face specifically. Her blue eyes scanned him, searching. He looked over his shoulder, thinking someone was behind him.

"Hold still!" She said.

She grabbed his chin and turned his head back around, and then licked her thumb and tried to touch it to him.

"What are you doing?" John asked, protesting.

"My dad's a bit of a neat freak; he likes people to look tidy and clean when they come meet him. Now stop fussing around dummy." She told him with frustration.

John did as he was told. Her wet thumb touched the end of his lip, dragging slowly down. John stood still, his eyes following her thumb and looking at her. She had kind and concentrated eyes, and she stuck her tongue out a little as if she was performing a surgical procedure.

"There, you had some dirt on your face. You look much more handsome now."

"I what?" John asked as she opened one of the doors and went through.

He followed her through and found, sitting behind a neat and organized desk, the man that he had saved last night. He had a hard face as he typed into a computer, but it lightened a little when he noticed the two of them.

"Did you have any trouble waking our friend up?" Alexander asked the girl.

"I found him outside his room, he got up on his own." the girl said next to him.

"Huh, a tough little bastard he is."

"Dad, swearing..." She said, hugging him.

"Yeah I know. I'm fucking working on it okay." Alexander said, returning the hug with one arm.

John stood silent, and uncomfortable. For obvious reasons, he had no idea how parents would act towards their children in a happy and healthy relationship. He thought that the parent wouldn't swear this much though.

"Okay I've got business to attend to, get outta here." Alexander told her.

"Aw but I wanna stay and talk to him." She pointed at John.

"No Anastasia. Besides, you've got homework to do."

"I've always got homework!" Anastasia exclaimed dramatically.

Alexander chuckled at her, and she hugged him once more before moving to leave. Anastasia waved her fingers at John as she passed him.

"Bye Anastasia." John said.

She looked a little surprised that he used her name; he was a little surprised himself. She quickly smiled after.

"Bye...umm," She forgot that she didn't know his name.

"John. John Shepard."

"Alright...bye, John."

The door closed softly behind her, and unbeknownst to himself, John smiled thinly.

"Ahem." Alexander grunted.

John blinked and glanced at Alexander, who gestured for him to approach, and he did.

"Sit, if you want." Alexander told him.

John remaind standing.

"Alright then. So John is your name? Considering everything that we went through last night I don't think either of us learned the other's names...you know what, fuck it sit down." Alexander insisted.

John gave him a quizzical look and he sat down. The seat was comfortable, like the bed.

"That's better, I felt like a teacher or something. As I was saying, we didn't get real acquainted, get me?"

"Well you were hot wiring a ride and I was on guard duty." John said with some annoyance.

"Would you have preffered we just take a little stroll outta there? In one of the worst neighborhoods around, after a loud ass gun fight? We wouldn't have made it five,"

"I was shot and bleeding out." John added.

"Don't interrupt me lad!" Alexander said authoritatively.

John shut his mouth, but defiantly sat up straight.

"You got a little cut, but if those assholes got their hands on us we would have been chopped up into,"

"Thanks." John said lowly.

"What did I say about interrupting...wait, what?"

John pulled his sweater down enough to show the bandages.

"Thanks." He said again.

He saw Alexander look back forth at him and the bandages before slumping back into his chair; his hard expression from a moment before growing softer, warily.

"Shit, you stopped me from getting a bullet between eyes, the least I could do was stick a bandage on you. That reminds me, what were you doing there, that late? Your folks must be scared shitless, even more now since I didn't know where you lived."

"Don't worry." John told him.

"What? Look lad, even if your parents are jerks I'm sure they'd still want you home."

"I don't have a home."

"Really? What, you live in a trash can?" Alxander said mockingly.

"I live at Chance's." John stated.

"That beat up shithole in the southside? But that's...an orphanage." Alexander stated with realization.

John lowered his eyes, still sitting straight. He had resigned himself to what he was, but he wasn't used to hints of sympathy.

"I live there, sometimes. I come and go. But it isn't my home." John said.

Alexander regarded him with interest, interest in his demeanor and his words.

"Why did you pick up a gun and join the action? Especially when you were shot, most kids would have been ballin their eyes out or running for the hills."

John didn't answer, he really didn't know how to. Alexander needed help? He got shot and was afraid, angry, and needed to, hurt someone.

"Well?" Alexander pressed.

"Are you complaining?" John asked.

Alexander looks confused first, then grinned while chuckling. He knew that he wasn't going to get a proper answer; for there was none.

"No lad I'm not. I am offering you a job, however."

"A job? Why?"

"Because I think you can get it done, and I'm paying you."

Alexander pulled something out of his desk and slid it across to John. It was a credit chit.

"One hundred and eighty credits. You'll get the other half when you are done."

The other half! John had never even owned more than thirty credits at any point in his life. Well, stolen more than thirty that is.

"What kind of job?" John asked as professionally as he could, though the chit stayed stayed well within his peripherals.

"A very important one."

* * *

><p>The can skidded across the ground again as John walked, the discarded metal hopelessly at the mercy of his foot. The sounds of dirty and dying ventilation systems, the beats of music playing out of cheap and static ridden stereos, the hums of hovercraft high above, many of which were on their last legs, and of course the sounds of the local wildlife. A particularly rapid specimen was rummaging through a waste bin outside a restaurant. The poor man gnawed at the bones of chicken, futily trying to eat what meat remained.<p>

John only had passing knowledge of this area; he did everything he could to avoid it. The Anarchists claimed this neighborhood as their territory. John didn't know much about them, just that they were regarded as one of the most dangerous gangs around, even more so than the Reds, though the opinion was different were you went. What was for certain is that, while the Reds only really preyed on people from other neighborhoods while leaving their own alone, the Anarchists would go after anybody. And now John was going meet some of them.

Turning the corner of the street, he saw a bright neon sign, Slaughterhouse, it read. John cringed, this place was a restaurant apparently. A beefy and mean looking man stood out front, and he was staring at John as he approached. Mustering his courage, John kept his head high and his shoulders wide. Despite this, he was still just a malnourished eight year old, and he felt like it when the man started laughing at him.

"Where's your mommy kid? You're out pretty late, and this ain't a daycare center."

"Your mommy doesn't tuck you in at night, neither does mine." John said as tough as an eight year old could.

"My mom has been dead for twelve years."

"I guess that explains why you haven't learned proper manners."

"Who the fuck do you think you are..."

"The guy with a package." John pulled out a steel box from his pack.

"Give it here."

"I'm supposed to give it to a Boss. You aren't the Boss I think."

The man scowled at him, but opened the door and let him in. John was immediately assaulted by the smell of cigarettes, among other things. The interior of the restaurant was, like the outside, dirty. The patrons reeked not of garbage but of danger, and suspicion.

"Through that door!" The beefy man said while shoving him.

John was herded through said door into the kitchen. Three more people were in her, one was actually dressed like he was a cook.

"What is this?" The cook asked.

"If I had to guess, I'd say this is Alexander's delivery." The beefy man said.

"Oh I see. Well hand it over boy, now."

John looked around with his eyes, taking notes. The beefy man and cook were behind and in front of him respectively. The two other men watched silently, one was chuckling for some reason, the other was blank. The surroundings, stoves with hot food, utensils, and two doors, the one he had come through and a back door.

"I'm supposed to get something from you also." John told the cook.

"There is a certain amount of give and take involved in this. Give it to me, before I take it." The cook said threateningly.

John handed him the box. The cook opened it and looked through the contents, and nodded.

"Everything seems to be in order."

"Except my pay from you." John told him.

This time, the cook laughed at him along with the other chuckling man.

"You've got a lot to learn kid, too bad you won't get the chance. Take him to the freezer.." The cook told the beefy man.

"We've got a new special on the menu, baby back ribs!" The cook joked cruely.

John struggled in the beefy man's hands as he was dragged past the cook. He guessed that the back door wasn't a way out. Any other eight year old would be a wreck right now, but John Shepard grabbed a knife off the counter and elbowed the beefy man in the groin, then turned to slice his cheek. As that man fell over in pain, John rushed past him and stabbed the surprised cook in the back of his thigh. Leaving the knife imbetted in his leg, John tore the steel box from the cook's hands and ran out the door.

He didn't make it very far, because following the shouting of 'Get that little prick!', someone tackled, or rather fell onto him. John's little elbows swung back, but whoever was on top of him just planted his head against the dirty floor, hard. John couldn't look anywhere but to the side, at stack of chairs, or in front, at the steel box he had tried to deliver.

"You stabbed me with my own knife, that just isn't right." The cook said angrily.

John kept trying to wiggle free, but whoever was on top of him pressed his head into the ground even harder. He could hear deep, angry breathing coming closer, kneeling down to him.

"Okay boy, I'm just gonna take a little off the top."

He put the knife in John's view, the same one that John had stabbed him with. Suddenly, he heard a bang. It wasn't very loud, but it was unmistakable. The cook fell over in front of him, dead. Two more bangs, and there was a heavy thump and then John was crushed beneath a body. Something warm spilled onto the back of his neck. Johnny pushed as hard as he could and managed to flip the dead weight off of him. It was the chuckling man, and a hole was in his head. John noticd that the beefy man was also dead on the ground, explaining the heavy thump. The only person standing was the fourth man from the kitchen, the one with the blank expression. He had a pistol with an attachment to the barrel, a silencer.

"Not bad kid, you handled yourself well. Or, well enough I guess." He told John.

"What?" John asked suspiciously, standing.

He slid up his sleeve to reveal the Red's logo tattooed on his forearm.

"I've been slumming with these people for awhile now. Sooner or later they were gonna stab us in the back. Although I think a kid dropping off the goods made them a little bold."

He walked past John and picked up the steel box, opening it. It had several packages of white powder, John guessed what it was.

"Alright, let's go." He told John.

"Go where? What is all this?" John asked.

"This..." The man gestured to the dead bodies.

"This is a mess. Now come on."

The man walked out without him. John was more than confused, and frustrated. Wiping some of the blood from his neck, Johnny hurried out after him.

* * *

><p>John didn't feel like walking, and thankfully the man, who he had yet to learn his name, had a hovercraft. The two flew out of Anarchists territory and into another neighborhood that was well away. John recognized it instantly, this was his area. It was contested with several small time gangs, thugs who banded together and fought each other. It wasn't safe, but the criminals here were really just rabble. John noticed an ugly looking building. It was dirty, in a state of disrepair, Chances.<p>

"What are we doing here?" John asked.

"You live here."

"What, that's it? I just, go back?"

"Sort of."

John was angry, no, he was pissed. He had been shot, shot someone, woken up in an unfamiliar place, then told to do something that almost got him killed. Before he had the nerve to go off, the hover craft had landed and the cockpit opened. They had landed just across the street from Chances, and John saw someone sitting on the steps leading into the orphanage, Alexander. Without even being told John hopped out and angrily stomped towards him.

"What the hell is going on?" John shouted before he even got close.

Alexander look both surprised and irritated by his tone.

"What is your deal, huh? You trying to get me killed or something?"

Alexander pulled a pistol from behind him and pointed it at John's head. The boy stopped just steps from being face to face with him. Alexander studied him. The boy was afraid of course, but also calm, analytical, and ready to act. Alexander turned the pistol over in his hand so that the grip was offered to John. John looked at it, confused. Alexander shook it towards him, urging John to take it, and he did. He didn't cradle it like it was fragile or scary, he held it properly in his hand.

"My deal, as you called it, is that I want you onboard."

"Onboard what?"

"With me. I want you to be a part of the Red's."

"Then why would you send me on that suicide mission?"

"Because I had your back, we had your back. You should thank Tom later."

John looked back at the parked hovercraft with Tom in it.

"If you already had someone there, why send me?"

"For one thing, I now know that those Anarchists assholes can't be trusted. We've had an unsteady truce for awhile now, not anymore. For another thing, I know that you can handle yourself. Your tough."

"I almost died there." John said meekly.

"And I almost died in that alley."

John looked at the pistol in his hand, and then at the orphanage. The only place he had ever, lived, for his short eight years.

"This isn't your home. You can have one, and can have a life. You need to be sure though, because this..." Alexander pointed to the pistol.

"You can't run away from this. You can't run away from what you do."

The back of John's neck itched. The blood had dried. He thought about the man that died on too of him, when he had stabbed the cook, when he shot the man about to kill Alexander.

Alexander offered his hand, a credit chit rested in his palm; the other half of his pay.

Then John thought about being hungry, every night. He thought about having nothing, about watching other people enjoy their lives and look down on him and the other orphans like scum. He thought about being neglected and abused by the woman who ran the orphanage, about the other children stealing his stuff, about being powerless.

He thought, he knew, he was sick of it.

John clasped his hand in Alexander's, taking the chit in his palm, and taking his new life in his heart.

* * *

><p><em>It took me an absolute shamefully long time to get this out, I'm sorry. This is the first of several chapters about Shepard's childhood, among other things. Expect most of the questions to start getting answered, so stay tuned. Read, review, and enjoy.<em>


	20. Lion's Pride Part 1

_First off I want to thank torexile for their review. I couldn't do this via pm so I shall do it here; __thank you for the compliments, and I realize some of the mistakes made that you pointed out. My only excuse, and it is not a good one, is that I have a tendency to type the chapters from the site, and on an iPad. Some of the autocorrect changes are completely nonsensical, and I sometimes miss them. I am also taking your advice in writing these prologues and epilogues again, clearly. Many thanks to darkerego as well for always reviewing. So this is the next of several chapters that will reveal the experiences of Shepard as a Reds gang member, here we go._

* * *

><p>John slammed the locker door shut and with a beep and whir, it sealed again. He slung the backpack over his shoulder, stuck his hand in his pocket, and made his way through the flood of students in the halls. His cap was tilted low as always, he could see out but few people could see in. It was with an odd mix of practised nimbleness and mean street bluntness that he cut a swath through the mess. Unlike most others, he had an uncanny foresight of what was coming; this allowed for him to plan his short journey and avoid being taken by surprise by sudden mobs of kids ranging from ages seven to twelve. Of course, John had no qualms with strolling right through conversations between two or more people, or trespassing in their so called space. He rarely gave any of them any attention, only sometimes turning his head slightly to hear what insults they had; the new kid wasn't making any friends with the popular crowd.<p>

Reaching his classroom, John went to his usual seat which was just three rows short of being at the very back. He immediately turned of the terminal built into the desk so as not to give the teacher the glory of ordering him to do it. The classroom was quiet, at least compared to the halls. It wasn't full as of yet: class clown Brandon sat in the very back all the way to the left with an arsenal of balled of throwable objects, Matilda the teacher's pet sat front and centre of course, the inseparable trio of Mike and Max and Milton, affectionately known as mmm, Marcus Robinson in the second row and to the right, who really might as well have been a mouse, and now Mr. Aftab.

"Students please activate your terminals! There is no sense in waiting around for the ones who can't even be bothered to show up on time." Mr. Aftab stated.

John rolled his eyes as the other present students turned on their terminals. Almost immediately a song laced with profanity started blasting out of Brandon's terminal.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Mr. Aftab panicked.

Brandon turned the song off and had a satisfied smile on his face.

"Sorry about sir, that was part of my music class project and I forgot to close it." Brandon told him.

It was a lie, Brandon's entire academic career thus far has been inventing new ways to trip up teachers and amuse students. He excelled at both, as everyone except for the teacher was laughing, John included.

"Alright, that's enough!" Mr. Aftab croaked.

More of the students started to file in, and the classroom quickly filled. Sherise and Mallorie were as annoying as ever; speaking about things he really didn't care about at a volume that nobody appreciated. He also cringed when he saw Richard knock Marcus's back pack onto the floor, and kicked it. For whatever reason, Mr. Aftab didn't seem to notice. Marcus sunk into himself until Richard was well away, and almost cautiously gathered his things back up.

"Students, lets continue our lesson from last class." Mr. Aftab said.

John sighed heavily, and he heard Sherise and Mallorie stop talking for a moment and then quickly resume. They actually spoked with a more hushed voice, but he knew they were making remarks about him. He didn't care too much; he didn't think getting in trouble at school over some stupid girls would please Alexander very much.

"And John, take off your hat! I really am getting tired of asking you that."

John bit his tongue in his mouth, he wanted to tell the teacher where he could shove the hat. For a little over six months he had been attending this school. Alexander insisted that he get a proper education, or as he called it, 'The character building shitstorm.' John had never needed to put up so many people, idiots, bullies, and fools before, and that applied to students and teachers both. Everything was so controlled, he couldn't just go where he wanted, couldn't just do what he wanted, it frustrated him...

"Yeah dummy, your hair doesn't look that bad." Anastasia joked after she removed his hat herself.

John smiled warmly at her. It wasn't all bad he remembered.

"Ah Anastasia, so nice of you to join us." Mr. Aftab said.

Anastasia seemed to be unable to get in trouble, even now after being five minutes late to class. Maybe it was because she was a model student, tartiness aside. She did well, was polite, and childishly clever and charming. It may have also been that smile, that winning smile. John smiled inwardly. For all the idiots, bullies, fools, for the perceived lack of freedom, he knew that he had gotten an opportunity that people that were in his position rarely got. Glancing over at Anastasia, John started to believe that Mr. Aftab wasn't that much of an idiot as he thought, that Richard wasn't as much of an asshole as he thought, that Sherise and Mallorie weren't as annoying, Marcus wasn't as pathetic, and he, well he felt a little more comfortable. He felt a little more at home, and despite not having anything to be down about, he felt a little better nonetheless. That was a truly unique feeling; feeling better without having been feeling bad.

John began typing furiously; he had completely missed the beginning of Mr. Aftab's lecture while musing to himself. A character building shitstorm indeed.

* * *

><p>A boy sat in the middle of the dirty floor of his room, among the dust and dirt and rodent droppings and bug carapaces. Under his broken bed, an upside down mouse corpse stared at him, the boy was an invader into its territory, and the dead stench had saturated the room long before he had started living in it. The boy got used to it; opening the window didn't offer a better alternative because of the piles of garbage that were outside. He could have jumped out and landed safely in the filth. The boy tapped his fingers on one of his knees, silent except for his breathing and the small scruff his pants made against the rug as he slowly rocked back and forth. He had no television, no books, no toys, and no friends. He wore a shirt that was too tight for him, pants that were too short for him, and shoes that were too big for him. Thankfully he didn't walk much, he wasn't allowed to leave the house, otherwise he would have blisters.<p>

Right now he occupied himself by spinning a coin on the ground; he cut a space out of the rug so that the floor was exposed. He spun it and kept trying to flick it so that it kept on spinning; it was rather dull but for a six year old this was better than nothing. He smiled to himself and got excited because he had flicked the coin four consecutive times without knocking it over, more than he had ever done. He exhaled rough chuckles, totally focusing on continuing his success. He flicked again, and knocked the coin over. The six year old's finger hovered over the coin, and his smile slowly curled down, and his excitement turned to anger. He pounded his fist onto the coin, making sounds of frustration each time. He pounded it three times; he wanted to put his fist through the floor, but it just wasn't happening. He picked up the coin and hurled it at the wall, making it ricochet out of sight. That made him feel a little better; being able to take the coin just throw it away, knowing it couldn't do a damn thing to stop him. He felt a little tougher and stronger.

He then heard loud stomps from outside his door. He immediately felt afraid and scrambled to his feet just as his door burst open. Dust fell as the door banging onto the wall echoed in the room. The woman that stood in the doorway had on panties and a tank top, her short hair was messy, and several needles wounds were fresh in her arm.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" She asked the boy.

"Nuh, nothing!" The boy replied fearfully.

"You little fucking liar, I heard you all the way down the hall. I don't know how many times I need to tell you to shut the fuck up!" She stepped towards him with her hand raised.

The boy raised his arms over his head and let out a small squeak when he felt her fingers graze his hand. The woman stumbled slightly, she was unfocused and dizzy from the narcotics in her veins. Despite missing for the most part, the woman was satisfied with her hit and moved to leave the room.

"Don't make me come back in here Jerrod." She told the six year old boy.

"Yes mommy." Jerrod told his mother.

His mother left the room but forgot to close to door. Jerrod, after making sure she was gone, closed the door softly He didn't return to his spot on the floor, instead he just stood facing the door. He could focus on trying to stand still instead of the filth, fear, and pain.

* * *

><p>The last class of the day had finally ended, though on a sour note because the teacher had given a homework assignment.<p>

"What do you wanna do for our project John?" Anastasia asked him when she followed him out.

John smiled. Once again, it wasn't that bad.

"I dunno." John stated in an exaggerated tone of stupidity.

"I dunno." Anastasia repeated in the same manner.

Once John made sure that he was clear to put his hat back on, the eight and nine year old walked through the halls towards the exit. Ironically, once class was over the students weren't stampeding out, but when moving between classes one risked getting trampled.

"Seriously John, this assignment is due at the end of next week!"

"I partnered up with you so that you could do all the work." John joked.

Anastasia hit the rim of his hat, knocking it down over his eyes.

"You dummy."

"You know maybe I'll tell your dad how much you hit me and call me dumb."

"He'll tell you to stop being a tattle tale."

"He'll probably just tell me to fu.."

"Don't swear!" Anastasia snapped.

John cleared his throat louder than he needed to and reworded his statement.

"He will probably tell me to 'eff' off."

Anastasia rolled her eyes at him, but John couldn't help smirking. The two of them exited the school and started the twenty minute walk back to the Red's hangout. They were unique in that they were two of the few younger students that walked on their own. Most of the younger kids got walked home by an awaiting parent or sibling or were picked up via hover car. The older kids usually did as they did; traveled alone or with friends. The neighbourhood the school was in was pretty safe compared to other ones. The police regularly patrolled, and gang influence wasn't too heavy. The smaller more mobile street gangs generally kept only a small presence here; with the Reds so close by they didn't risk trouble. Despite all that, John didn't let his guard down until they were well into Reds territory, especially when he had Anastasia with him. He still remembered the words Alexander had told him on his first day of school, 'Pay attention, be respectful, but don't let anyone fuck with you. And keep an eye on my little dove for me.'

John stole a glance at Anastasia. She didn't look like she needed watching. It is odd really; she seems so at home here, so confident, but she isn't anything like the people around here. She's too...nice.

"What is it with you and swearing?" John asked her.

"What do you mean what is it with me? Swearing is...bad."

"Yeah but you even tell your dad to stop it."

"My mom always hated it when dad swore, he used to do it a lot more."

"Wow." John said with genuine amazement.

"Yeah." Anastasia said quietly.

John lifted his cap up a little so he could see her clearly. She looked less cheery and happy than she was a few moments ago. He wanted to ask her what is wrong, but he had a more analytical mind, he knew what he needed to ask.

"Where is your mom?"

Anastasia scratched her head, not answering immediately.

"Mom died when I was four."

Silence lingered for a few moments. John merely looked at his feet taking steps. He glanced at her again, and he wanted to press the issue, though only so he could understand it more, and help. He wanted to help, even though there really wasn't anything he could do.

"I'm sor,"

"I miss her." Anastasia interrupted him accidentally.

John looked at her expectantly, his mouth was half open but wordless.

"Sorry what were you gonna say?" She asked.

"Um, so it's just been you and your dad since you were four?"

"After my mom died, I went to live with my uncle for a year."

"Why?"

"He told me that my dad wasn't allowed to take care of me, so I was given to next of kin; my uncle. I didn't see my dad for a whole year, and then one day, he just shows up at my uncle's house."

"What happened?"

"He talked to my uncle for awhile, but I wasn't allowed to listen to what they were saying. Then, he came over and hugged me, then he told me 'Grab your shit, we're leaving.'"

John noticed she blushed when she swore. He couldn't help grinning.

* * *

><p>Jerrod awoke groggily in the morning. He had a hoarse cough and used his teeth to scrape off all the crap that formed on his lips because he slept with his mouth open. Since the room was always cold at night, his sinus seemed to be permanently clogged and so he was forced to breath through his mouth mostly. Standing, he heard the familiar creak of the bed. It wasn't because Jerrod was a large child; the bed was just that decrepit. He had slept in his clothes, minus the shoes. He picked one up, banged it on the ground, and then slipped it on. He picked up the other, banged it, and jumped slightly when a spider fell out. It quickly moved under his bed, no doubt where numerous other crawlers lived along with the dead, staring rat. As he approached the door, he felt the back of his neck and found a sensitive bump. The bed bugs, or whatever happened to be infesting his mattress, had gotten to him again.<p>

Jerrod placed his ear to the door and then slowly opened it, always peering out through the widening crack as a precaution. He closed the door quietly behind him and moved down the hall toward the stairs. The rest of the house wasn't much better than his room; dark, dirty, decrepit, smelly. At the bottom of the stairs he lingered for a few moments by the door, locked as usual. He looked out one of the windows nearby out to see the neighbourhood that he lived in; dark, dirty, decrepit, smelly, it was a recurring theme. Walking into the kitchen Jerrod open the food cabinet. It was for the most part empty, but he found a box of crackers. Unbeknownst to the six year old, they had gone stale long ago, but he was too famished to not eat them. He practically tore open the box and started eating the stale crackers.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Jerrod choked on a mouthful of the crackers and turned quickly, holding the box behind his back despite how futile that was. A man had been sitting at the table in the shadows, and Jerrod was so preoccupied with getting something to eat that he hadn't noticed. He had a cup of cold coffee, along with several letters and bills on the table. His face was unshaven, he wore shorts and a t-shirt, socks without shoes, and most striking off all was his teeth. They were glowing a faint red, a by product of his red sand addiction. He regarded Jerrod coldly and hatefully.

"Answer me boy." The man ordered.

"I was...I'm hungry, daddy."

"No kidding." He gestured to the crumbs on the floor.

Gulping down a lump in his throat, Jerrod grabbed the broom from the closest and started to sweep up the mess. His shaking hands, however, made it somewhat difficult. Out of the corner of his eye Jerrod saw his father get up from his seat, and Jerrod shook more and struggled to hold back tears of fear behind his eyes. He silently pleaded that his father would just walk out. Instead, the cruel man came and stood right in front of him. Jerrod tried to act like he wasn't there, not looking up and still sweeping.

"You useless kid, you're making more of a mess!"

Jerrod couldn't hold back his tears now, and indeed his sweeping had turned into little more than him moving the crumbs around along with the dirt from the floor. He felt cornered and didn't know what to do. Suddenly his father punched him straight in the gut. Jerrod was winded, and buckled under his own weight, and finally fell over when his father pushed him to the ground. Jerrod could only close his eyes and hope it ended quickly as his father repeatedly kicked him in the legs, arms, and stomach. It only lasted about five seconds, but that was five seconds too long.

"I gotta tell you Jerrod, when your mother told me she was pregnant, I never thought I would end up with, whatever the hell you are. Fucking useless, stupid, and a pussy above all else. You're hungry? Well you've got plenty to eat right there."

Jerrod lay on the ground in the dust and filth as his father left. He lay there for several minutes, or maybe hours? No one in this house did much, so he could have laid there all day. The pain passed eventually, but the six year old continued to lay there crying, gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, and thinking of ways that he could disappear or make his parents love him. None came to mind.

* * *

><p>John casually walked down the sidewalk, often needing to avoid bumping into preoccupied or careless adults. After he an Anastasia had arrived at the Reds hideout, Alexander had pulled John aside and told him that he needed to make a delivery. It was very similiar to the very first job that John had been given all those months ago; he had a steel container, a location, and he could guess what was inside. Alexander had assured him that this was a real delivery this time, not another life threatening setup. Apparently he wasn't even going to a gang member, just a loyal, and regular, customer. He remembered giving Alexander a suspicious and withering look, and then the man had told him 'Oh fuck off will you, I promise this is legit. Well, not legal obviously, but you know what I mean. Go on now lad.'<p>

Just like the first job, John was given half of his pay up front, and would receive the rest when he came back with the buyer's money. He had gotten a hundred credits from Alexander, which meant that his total pay would be two hundred. John snorted; he was able to do that kind of math before he enrolled in school. He admitted though, he enjoyed school well enough. Despite how insufferable some of the students and teachers were, they weren't all bad, definitely not the worst that he had encountered. he also genuinely liked the stuff he learned. To top it all off, he had a friend, a real friend, Anastasia, that he saw everyday. Things had, for the most part, gotten better drastically in just six months.

He presumed that he had arrived at his destination. Alexander had told him that he was going to a nightclub called Quantum. The building was bursting with music and lights, and alcoholics by the looks of it. A line of people stretched down the sidewalk, stopped by a heavyset bouncer. John walked just outside the line of people, most of them ignored him, some eyed him like he was out of place, which he did feel. While still a lower city den, this neighbourhood was richer and less congested with criminals than most others. The people reflected that; they dressed in a mix of upper city posh with lower city grime and attitude. To sum it up; the men looked like douche bags and the women looked like hookers with pride. One of them even asked him how much he was selling for. It seems like children being narcotics couriers was common place. Whatever offers he received his ignored; his loyalty wasn't something that could be bought, especially when he knew that the offers were rip offs. He walked along the line of people until he came to the bouncer.

"Ugh, you need something kid?" The bouncer asked confusedly.

"Actually, I've got something you need..." John fished the container out of his pack and showed it.

The bouncer's eyebrows raised from behind his glasses, and after checking in all directions, he pulled a credit chit out of his pocket. The two exchanged the items silently.

"Word of advice kid, be more discreet."

John wanted to call him out on the fact that he looked all around to see if anybody was watching despite being in full view of the line of people. However, this was a valued customer, so John kept his mouth shut. He nodded and continued on his way, leaving the blaring music and lights behind.

John was forced to take the long way back. Alexander told him that it wasn't safe or smart for one to come back the way one came. It was especially annoying because he recognized the area; it was just a few blocks from Chances. Still walking on the sidewalk, John noticed a group of three men sitting on chairs outside a dry cleaners. They wore similar clothing and exuded the same stupidity and confidence. He presumed that they were a part of one of the small time gangs that infested this area. He noticed that most of the other people walking gave them a wide berth. John, without even thinking, did not. He walked close enough that one of them could grab him without even stretching his arm all the way. As he did walk by, he glanced at them. They gave him a look, he supposed they were trying to scare him. Six months ago, he would have avoided this main street entirely. Now, he felt like he was untouchable. John honestly believed that if he had Tom or Alexander with him, these three men would have bowed to him. It was an exaggeration of course, but that feeling of power, of being able to make others second guess themselves, he wanted it. If he wasn't just eight years old...well he didn't think that far ahead right now.

He passed by an alleyway and heard a thump, and a crash. Curious, he back peddled a few steps so that he could look in. He saw a boy pulling a trash can off of him. John gasped, he recognized the boy even with all the muck and grime. His name was Billy, he is the same age as John, and he lived at Chances, just like John used to. Billy looked at him, tilted his head, and then his eyes widened.

"John!"

Billy jumped to his feet and ran towards him. John took a few steps back from the filthy boy; the trash and dirt and muck, John used to be like that, maybe worse sometimes. Now, it disgusted him. It was so, pathetic to him.

"Yeah it is you John! Remember me? Billy!"

"Yeah, yeah I remember. How, how have you been?" John asked, realizing the question was stupid.

"What about you? Everyone thinks you're dead or something, where have you been? Where did you get those clothes?"

John looked at what he was wearing. His cap, a clean shirt and jacket, fitting pants, and brand new shoes. Billy was wearing the same thing he had been wearing since John saw him six months ago.

"It's a long story. Billy, why are you digging through the trash?" John asked, even though he had done the same thing on several occasions

"Chances doesn't have enough food to feed everyone right now, so most of the younger kids have eaten. I didn't get anything."

"But don't you have forty or fifty credits saved up? I remember you had a stash."

"It's gone." Billy said with a heavy frown.

"What do you mean gone? What did you spend it on?"

"This kid I met said that he was trying to buy a monitor and he was just forty credits short. He told me that he buys stuff cheap and then sells it to other people for more money, which he pockets. He told me that if I lent him the money he would cut me in, he told me I could make eighty credits on top of my forty!"

John rubbed his nose in frustration. Even before joining the Reds, he knew that you shouldn't trust people like that.

"What kid was this?"

"Some elven year old kid named Tyrone, he was real friendly to me, even gave me a soda, I thought..."

"Just, stop." John told him.

John knew very well how the orphans often went hungry at Chances. He knew that the woman that ran the place, the one person that was supposed to be looking out for them, didn't give two shits about it. He knew that people were always going to take advantage of them, just like this Tyrone did to Billy. Biting his lip, John reached into his pockets. One had the money that he received from the bouncer. This was the money that was meant for Alexander and the Reds, the people that had changed his life. He pulled his hand out of that pocket immediately, not touching that money. Instead, he pulled the credit chit in his other pocket out; the first half of his own money. He handed it to Billy.

"What is this?"

"One hundred credits." John told him.

Billy's eyes widened even more, which was impressive. He didn't ask why, or what, he just tried to run. John grabbed him by the arm before he could get too far. Billy struggled, trying to pull free. Beneath his tipped cap, John shook his head. The money had made Billy immediately change, he wouldn't even give John the respect of hearing him out.

"Share that with the others Billy."

"What?" Billy asked in disbelief.

John got angry at Billy's tone and pulled him closer.

"Share it with the others!" John said in the most commanding eight year old voice.

Billy blinked once, and then nodded his head. John let him go and the boy was off, running down the street. John wasn't so naive to think that Billy would listen to him.

* * *

><p>Jerrod looked in the mirror, inspecting his mouth. It was hard, the bathroom light flickered and barely clung to life. His tooth had been hurting tremendously, and he noticed one of his teeth was rotted. He flicked it with his tongue, and small bouts of pain made him wince. Despite that, he reached into his mouth and grabbed the tooth with his fingers. He winced again at the pain, but slowly started to twist the tooth. He felt it tugging at dead skin, and he started to taste the blood that began filling his mouth. It hurt immensely now, but this was his own pain, he was doing this to himself, he could take it. He would take it. Whining a little, he twisted and pulled the tooth out. He dropped it into the garbage can and looked at himself in the mirror again. Blood dripped from his mouth, his tongue was drenched in it, and smiled openly with one tooth missing. He chuckled out of nowhere, and then forced himself to keep on chuckling. He worked hard to find something to laugh at in the bloody reflection. After spitting the blood Jerrod washed his hands and walked into the hallway. For some reason, he felt less inclined too skulk about. He heard voices coming from behind one of the doors; the room his parents sometimes slept in. Normally he would give his mother and father a lot of space, but he felt particularly good about himself right now, and so he listened to what he could hear.<p>

Their voices were quiet, and he could only make out bits of what was being said.

"Too much...can't pay..."

"...but what about..."

"..can't...Jerrod.."

He got excited, puzzled, and worried all at the same time. They were talking about him; did he do something? Were they doing something for him?

"Need to go...a big pay..."

"...fine...now."

The voices stopped and he heard footsteps coming towards the door. Jerrod started walking back down the hall towards his room, trying to look natural. He heard the door creak open and someone step out into the hall.

"Jerrod." He heard his father say.

Jerrod stopped in his tracks and slowly turned. His father stood leaning against the doorframe. He had a softer look about him.

"Can you help me for a minute?" He asked.

Help! Jerrod couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. This was his chance, a way to make his parents happy with him.

"Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah what do you need?" Jerrod asked eagerly.

Nobody had spoken this loud in this house unless they were angry. His father laughed at his enthusiasm, which only made Jerrod more eager.

"I just need you to get something for me, come on downstairs." His father walked towards the stairs.

Jerrod had to try really hard not to run. He power walked after his father, taking a moment to look in his parent's room. He saw his mother packing several pairs of clothes and items, but whatever, he didn't care, he ore important things to do right now. Jerrod met his father at the bottom of the stairs.

"What can I do?" Jerrod asked.

"You see that closet there?" His father pointed to it, and Jerrod nodded.

"I want you to go in there and find my red leather jacket."

"I've never seen you were a red leather jacket?"

"That's because it is really special, and I don't wear it unless..." Jerrod had already moved off when he heard that it was special.

The boy opened the closet door and looked around. It was really dark, even darker than the house already was. Everything was covered in dust, and it smelt of old clothing. Jerrod searched, but he couldn't see it.

"I can't find it!" Jerrod shouted behind him.

"It's in there Jerrod, trust me." His father said back to him.

Jerrod had steel resolve right now, he walked right into the closet and inspected each piece of clothing in there thoroughly. It was just too dark though. Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind him and he heard a click. Taken by surprise and fumbling around in the darkness, Jerrod found the handle and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

"Daddy, the door closed on me and it locked!" Jerrod shouted, his voice echoing back on him.

No reply came, he just heard hurried footsteps.

"Daddy!" Jerrod shook the handle.

The door was right in front of him and all the coats were pressed against his back, every move he made was constricted. And the dark, he couldn't see his own hands.

"Daddy I can't get out!" Jerrod shouted.

More hurried footsteps, no reply.

"Daddy I'm stuck in here, help!" Jerrod tried again, now with tears threatening to run down his face.

He heard two sets of footsteps this time, both were on the ground floor.

"Mommy! Mommy please help me get out!

Jerrod heard the front door open and he started shaking the door handle viscously. Tears were pouring down his face now. All he could see was black darkness, the thuds of the door had no form in front of him.

"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy!" Jerrod cried as he started to bang himself against the door, hoping he could break through it.

"Where are you going? I'm locked in here! Hello?"

The footsteps were more quiet this time, then he heard the front door close, and then he heard nothing but his own breathing and the banging of the door.

"Wait! Please wait I'm locked in here! Mommy! Daddy! Help me please, it's dark in here and I can't get out!" Jerrod said while invisible tears poured down an invisible face and an invisible hand clawed at an invisible door.

"Please don't leave me in here! I'm sorry, whatever I did I'm sorry but let me out please!"

His own words came echoing back at him, and also haunted the empty house.

"Daddy!" Jerrod tried, clinging to hope that his father was still there, that this was just an accident.

"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" He screamed, as any young child would, though the terrible truth was starting to be known to him.

In all his sadness and fear, and hurt, rage fell upon him as well. He started throwing himself against the door, but with no room to move, he couldn't get enough speed, though that was irrelevant. His small body was no match for the closet door.

"Let me out! Let me out!" He screamed with sadness, fear, hurt, and rage.

For the whole day he would yell and scream and smash his body against the door. He never let go of the handle, being as dark as it was, he thought he may never find it again. On the second day his pants were wet with his own excrement. On the third day, lost sight of what was left or right, up or down, he was lost in the darkness.

* * *

><p><em>So with each new chapter we will see the pasts of the major characters and how they tie into the story as a whole, and how they affect Shepard. This was the <em>_beginning of Jerrod Kilik's story, though it is far from over. I've also shown you how Shepard has changed since joining the Reds, expect more of that in the future. Read, review, suggest, and enjoy._


	21. First Impressions

_Last chapter Shepard got a little blast from the past when he encountered one of the children that lived at the same orphanage as himself. He had something of a revelation when he looked at how he is now and how he could've been. We also met Jerrod Kilik as a child, and saw just how poorly he has been treated. Lets continue._

* * *

><p><em>Well, this isn't good.<em> John thought to himself.

The boy peered around the corner but quickly hid himself again when he saw the cop approaching. Staying close to the wall, John moved quickly, sandwiched between the dirty and stained building walls and the passing crowds, many of whom were dirty and, stained, as well. They gave John paranoid looks; children were well known as petty thieves, pickpockets, and snitches in this neighbourhood.

Alexander had given him another delivery job; he only gave him delivery jobs. He supposed that he should be grateful; the money was good enough, and after his very first job, John was certain that he didn't want to deal with anything that Tom did, for example. Tom had thought it prudent to show John some of his bullet wounds; John thought the first time he was shot was much more than he could ever handle, he didn't want to think about it happening another eleven times.

Despite his relatively easy jobs, John had become a little complacent. He definitely felt more respected; although most of his customers and even the older Reds members still treated him like he was just a dumb kid. Now that he thought about it, the fact that he was a Reds member was the only reason he wasn't getting jumped every time he made a drop. He wasn't exactly intimidating, no matter how much he desired it.

John darted across the street and started heading in a different direction, and his pursuer looked none the wiser.

At his core, no matter how tough he pretended to be, he was still afraid. He dressed better than he used to, ate better, had better friends and knew more, but he still had this lingering fear inside him. John shook his head at his own stupid ambition; he remembered how scared he was just holding a gun, and he wanted a job with more, excitement.

"Hey! Someone stop that kid!" The cop shouted.

"I should be careful of what I wish for." John said to himself before starting to run.

This latest job turned out to be an undercover sting, with the cop pretending to be a small time buyer. He sorely underestimated John; he told him to wait in the corner while he called for a pickup! Alexander would never forgive him, and John would never forgive himself, if he had let a halfwit like that take him in. What the cop may have lacked in sensibility he made up for it with persistence and, by the looks of it, speed, because he was catching up!

"Hey little boy, you better stop or you'll be in big trouble!" The cop shouted after him.

John snickered, "And if I don't, you'll be in big trouble!" John taunted.

John realized that if he continued the chase like this, the cop would catch him soon enough. He desperately tried to get a lay of the land, but his original destination was already skirting the edges of the area of the Lower City that he knew. Now, he had effectively ran himself into a blind zone, he had no idea where he was. Up ahead he saw the entrance to a transit hub. John shrugged and bee lined for it.

As soon as he entered, he met a wall of shifting people. The boy had to elbow his way past adults, teens, elders, and other kids. He spared a look back and saw that the cop hadn't given up and that he was trying to move through the tightly packed groups of people as well. He tried flashing his ID to exercise his position as law enforcement, but evidently people around her had no love for authority. Within minutes John had lost sight of the cop in the sea of people, but he didn't slow himself, he needed to find an exit...

"Get the fuck away from me!" A man shouted at him before he backhanded John to the ground.

Where police authority couldn't, this confrontation between two regular, or mostly regular people managed to part the wave indifferent people, and they moved around the two.

"I'm gonna let you go this time kid, but if you try to go through my pockets again, I'll cut your hand off!" The man threatened.

John stared daggers at him, but kept his mouth shut. Sparing one more angry glance at John, the man left, disappearing amongst the next group of people to walk by, ignoring him. They all ignored him, or silently detested him. John stood back up but didn't move, he just stood in his place. A little blood dripped from his lip.

People pushed past him, mumbling to themselves or talking to others, or being alone with their thoughts. They didn't give a damn about the lost looking, bleeding little boy in their midst. It was a sobering reminder for John; that people still didn't care for him. It reminded him of the people that showed that they did, Alexander, Anastasia, the only people that had done anything for him and the people that he knew he should care about.

He licked the blood on his lip.

He was reminded of how many times people beat on him and treated him like trash, just like that man had not even two minutes ago. That life changing time when he had picked up a gun and killed somebody; he wouldn't mind having that power right now, even momentarily, just to give people a reason to pause.

John blinked away his introspection and started looking for an exit. He found one shortly and came out into a cesspool. He was being figurative, but if he had taken a few more steps he would've stepped in something that should have been in the pipes running underneath a fast food restaurant. He carefully stepped over the mess and inspected his new location.

Everything was dark; it was midday but this place seemed to hold a dreary overcast. It was quite a contrast to where John had just come; the bright and bustling transit hub and now this dark and empty place. No one, absolutely no one was on the street. Not even a homeless person, the sidewalks were barren. That John heard cussing, breaking glass, static ridden music and slamming doors in the background was quite puzzling to him.

Somewhat reluctantly, John continued deeper into this unknown neighbourhood. After several minutes of walking he finally sighted some of the local residents. They matched the area; dark and didn't feel right. They all eyed him silently, and John thought it best that he didn't linger with them too long. From the looks of the people, none of them seemed to be affiliated with a gang. This provided some relief, but he still didn't trust anyone here. He considered asking someone that looked semi non hostile for directions, or at least where the hell he was. The only candidate was suddenly shot dead just across the street from him.

The sound was very loud, and stirred up everyone in the vicinity, but not in the way John expected. These men and women merely watched as the assailant went through the victim's pockets, searching desperately for something. He pulled out a credit chit from the victim's pockets and quickly ran out of sight. John could have sworn he heard one of the onlookers snicker in amusement; he needed to get out of here!

John decided that he would have better luck; and be safer, if he went back the way he came. He turned to do so and noticed something graffitied onto a window that he hadn't before. It was a body bag, a filled body bag, with the letter A over the location of the face. This art made a lump form in his throat, it was the symbol of the Anarchists.

"Oh crap..." John said.

"You have no idea."

John almost jumped out of his shoes. He turned and took a few steps back from the man that had snuck up on him out of nowhere. He was of average height and medium build, nothing that would ever make him standout in a crowd with the exception of the tattoo on his neck; the anarchist symbol. He looked down on John with a cruel smirk.

"I was just going..."

"Where? Back to the Reds? I don't think so."

"Who are the Reds? I'm just walking home from school." John lied, and the man laughed in his face.

"School, oh that is rich. There are no schools around here kid, don't play dumb with me."

_Shit._

"I've been following you for awhile. When I tipped off the cops that the Reds were making a drop, I didn't expect you to get away. But I'm in luck, you ran here of all places. You fucked up kid."

"What do you want, the goods? Here, take it!" John offered the steel canister to him, not letting on that he had taken the drugs out and put them in his back pockets long ago.

The man slapped the canister out of John's hand. The clatter it made on the ground was loud enough to make both of their already tense nerves jump, and both of them flinched.

"I'm not here for a few credits worth of powder, I'm here to take you out!" The gang member said, drawing a pistol.

John took another step back, searching desperately for a place to run or hide. He was too exposed no matter which way he went. He thought of the time when Alexander had given him a pistol to defend himself whilst he hot-wired a vehicle. He didn't think at the time that he had it in him to actual use it, but now, he sorely wished he had the opportunity.

"You dumb kid, did you really think you could play a man's game? You should've stuck to something more your speed, like tag. Hmm, you know what? I'll give you a chance, I'll cover my eyes and count to five. You might wanna take that head start; don't worry kid, I won't peek." The man chuckled and cover his eyes.

"One,"

John couldn't believe his luck. First the idiot cop, and now this imbecile, underestimating him.

"Two,"

John took two steps away from him.

"Three,"

John ran forward and kicked the man in the groin as hard as he could.

"Four!" The man squeaked in a high pitched voice.

He seemed to have lost all strength on his legs and he fell to his knees. John bolted away.

"Remember, no peeking!" John shouted back cockily.

The gang member turned himself around and shot at John twice, missing both times. He forced himself to his feet and went after the boy.

John was weaving to and fro and turning onto whatever new street he came to. The Anarchist gang member kept shooting at him whenever they were at a straight away, but the man was evidently a horrible shot. The few people that they passed didn't look at all afraid of the lunatic running around with a gun, shooting at a child. John knew it was only a matter of time before his pursuer got lucky and shot him or that he ran out of the energy to keep running himself. He saw what looked to be the entrance into an alley up ahead and prepared to turn into it. When he did, he realized with horror that it was a dead end and only a pile a garbage greeted him.

"I'm gonna get you kid, and when I do, you're in for a world of hurt!"

John heard the gang member's footsteps getting closer. If he went back now, he would run right into him and then he was done for. It was then that he noticed a window above. John used the garbage to climb high enough and then jumped and grabbed the windowsill. He pressed against the window but it wouldn't open, it opened out. Desperate, John smashed through it with his fist. He climbed through and fell onto the floor of a dirty room, with broken glass cutting into him.

"I know you're in there, as soon as I get up there I'll...shit!"

John cautiously looked out the window he had just broken through and saw the gang member trying to climb the piles of garbage just like he had, but he was too heavy for the trash to support. John moved away from the window and took a moment to gather his thoughts. He was in a bedroom, a very poorly maintained one. Even the orphanage had better rooms than this. John couldn't imagine what kid could live in a place like this.

He stepped out into the hall and saw that the rest of the house wasn't much better. He noticed a quiet thumping sound coming from the ground floor. He walked down the creaky stairs and approached the closet door, where the sound was coming from. The door shook slightly with each thump, like something was pushing on it from the inside. Curiously, John opened the door and jumped back immediately. A boy fell forward like a dead body and crashed to the ground. He looked dehydrated, his pants were stained from days worth of pee, he looked barely alive.

"Hey, hey kid!" John shook the boy.

The boy was mumbling something. John turned him over and listened to what he was saying.

"Let me out, let me out..."

"You're out kid, I let you out. How long have you been in there?" John asked worriedly.

The boy turned his head to look at John. John was taken aback, while the boy's body was in bad shape, his look exuded life. Suddenly, he heard a loud bang on the front door.

"Mommy...daddy..." The boy murmured.

"I don't think so." John told him.

John left the boy on the ground and hurried into the kitchen. Jerrod, lay helpless on the ground as he watched the door get bashed open. A mean looking man with a gun stomped inside and looked around angrily. When he noticed Jerrod, his expression turned both ugly and surprised.

"Huh, you aren't the kid I'm looking for. Damn though, you look like shit." The gang member nudged Jerrod with his foot.

"You are technically a witness to a breaking and entering however, bad luck for you kid..." The gang member pointed his gun at Jerrod.

The Anarchist gang member expected the boy to be terrified, but to his shock, the boy just stared back at him angrily. It disturbed him slightly. Before he could pull the trigger, he heard a shout behind him.

John came running with the weapon he had gotten from the kitchen, a frying pan, and took the gang member by surprise. John smashed the gun out of his hand and then struck his leg as hard as he can. The pain was enough to make the gang member bend down enough for John to hit him across the back, which knocked him down. John followed through savagely, he attacked the gang member's head.

Jerrod watched John beat the man with the blunt object, he watched as it became coated with blood more and more every time it hit, and with every hit, how much more fierce John became. John finally stopped when he believe the man was unconscious, but in reality, John had beaten him to death. He dropped the pan to the ground and panted heavily. He noticed Jerrod staring at him, and he merely stared back.


	22. End of Innocence

Alexander tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk. He now glanced at the time on his omni tool just for the sake of keeping himself in a rhythm; tap then glance then blink, tap and glance and blink. It kept him from maddening, barely. He opened the comm link on his omni tool and raised it to his mouth.

"Tom, any sign of him yet?"

"Nope, I got nothing. I've got some of the boys spread out keeping an eye out, but they haven't seen heads or tales of the kid." Tom's voice said over the comm.

Alexander sighed and rubbed his face.

"You think something happened to him?" Tom asked.

"Doubtful, John's a tough little squirt." Alexander said with uncertainty despite his words.

"And trouble follows him like a stray dog, we both can vouch for that."

Alexander snickered, but it held no amusement.

"Should I send someone to look for him?" Tom asked.

"Give him some more time, I'll tell you if..."

"Daddy!" Anastasia's voice said from behind the door into his office, preceding a loud knock.

"I'll tell you if I want someone to go find him." Alexander finished more hurriedly.

"Daddy!"

"Yeah, come in, what do you want?"

Anastasia strolled in without a smile on her face. Alexander frowned, she rarely had such a look.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Alexander asked while standing to meet the little girl.

"Where's John? We partnered up for this project for school but I can't find him anywhere!" She threw her hands up in the air for exclamation.

"Why do you want his help? You always call him a dumbass!" Alexander teased.

"Dummy." She corrected, scolding his swearing.

"Same thing." Alexander said dismissively.

"He is a dummy...but he's a smart dummy, and this project is a lot of work!"

"Well I don't know where he is. Maybe you should check...wherever it is you kids play. The park?"

Anastasia narrowed blue eyes at him, easily seeing the lie he tried to conceal.

"Don't look at me like that." Alexander demanded, faltering under her gaze.

"He's...working. Isn't he?" Anastasia asked softly, but also accusingly.

Alexander scratched his head, unsure of what to say. Anastasia had known who and what he was for awhile, despite his trying to keep her away from it.

"What do you want me say?" He asked with some frustration.

The little girl bit her lip and looked away from him. Alexander now rubbed his face roughly with both hands. He crouched down so that he could meet Anastasia's eyes better.

"Look, I know that you don't particularly like what I do. I suppose I can't blame you but...well dammit if,"

"We've got him!" Tom's voice suddenly shouted through the omni tool.

"What, what?" Alexander asked.

"John just came back, he's got a gun with him and some other kid that's in really rough shape."

"Why the fuck does he have a gun? And what do you mean he has another..."

Alexander noticed that Anastasia was staring at him worriedly. He realized that he should handle this with more discretion.

"Get him back here. Both of them."

"On it."

Alexander rubbed his fingers into his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"Anastasia..." He asked while turning.

He found that his daughter was gone, and he had an idea as to where she went.

* * *

><p>John helped Jerrod out of the back seat of Tom's hovercraft once they landed. The boy moved slowly because of how weak he was, but he still stared at everything with a look that was the complete opposite of his physical appearance. He was quiet, just like John was. John didn't know why Jerrod was being so quiet, he did know that he himself was quiet because he was incredibly miffed.<p>

"Alexander is expecting you..." Tom said after him.

"I'm sure he is." John said.

While John lead the way towards Alexander's office, he made sure he stayed at a comfortable pace for Jerrod, who's knees were wobbling. Jerrod didn't really care too much, he was busy being enthralled by just about everything. He had left the house, and by himself! He got to see so many people; no one he particularly liked but more than he had ever seen before. He also saw someone die in front of him; the boy that had brought him here beat a man to death with a frying pan. That act held him in a tight grip, and made him watch John like hawk in everything he did.

"John!" A girl screamed.

Jerrod jumped at the sound; in his experience, beatings and scoldings followed screaming. Instead, a girl came running towards them. Jerrod was suddenly afraid, he thought she was coming to attack them. He looked at John but he didn't seem to realize what was about to happen.

"We...we should move..." Jerrod whispered, but to late.

The girl reached them and he shut his eyes tight, but the expected hitting or swearing never came. He opened one eye and saw that the girl wasn't attacking, she hugging! Hugging John. He noticed that John looked less angry as well.

"Where were you, why do you have that gun?" Anastasia asked frantically.

"I was out doing a job for your dad and things went bad." John said.

"He killed somebody." Jerrod added out of the blue, he felt that it needed to be said.

"What?" Anastasia asked with shock in a tone that made John feel sick.

John shot Jerrod a look, and Jerrod in turn felt the same sickness.

"I didn't have a choice, this guy was trying to kill me and he was going to kill him!" John pointed to Jerrod.

"And I wasn't going to let that happen." John finished in a serious tone.

Anastasia was speechless, as was Jerrod. John spoke with such conviction that it was almost too hard for them to question him, almost.

"But you killed somebody..." Anastasia whispered.

John didn't have the time or the heart to endure anymore of her questions right now.

"Anastasia, can you take care of Jerrod for me? He needs some food and something to drink...and a bath to."

Anastasia looked at Jerrod, who looked away shyly. She took his hand in her's and his mouth hung open, he didn't know what to say to this tenderness.

"My dad is waiting for you." Anastasia told John without looking at him.

"Thanks." John replied.

John started walking away from them. Jerrod stared after him even while Anastasia pulled him along in the opposite direction.

When John reached the wooden doors into Alexander's office he didn't even stop to knock. He threw himself against them and they opened, unable to hold long against even his small body. Alexander had been standing up rather than sitting at his desk and turned to meet him.

"What the fuck are you thinking..." Alexander began.

"I'm thinking that I almost got killed, again!" John interrupted angrily.

"Now hold on..."

"No I'm not gonna hold on! The drop was a sting, a cop chased me all over the place and then I ended somewhere I've never been..."

"John.."

"...and then some guy with the Anarchists shows up and tries to kill me, it turns out he was the one that sold us out! Are you still trying to get me killed? Because it looks like..."

"Shut the hell up!" Alexander screamed in his face.

John flinched and did as he was told, but if Alexander had tried to scare him, it didn't work.

"Now are you going to let me talk?"

John merely nodded.

"Good. Now then, what were you thinking when you decided to come back here with a gun? Do you know what kind of attention that can draw? And who's the kid you brought along?"

"This gun belonged the Anarchist member that set me up."

"And you managed to steal it from him?"

"No."

"Then how did you...oh." Alexander said, noticing the tiniest of blood stains on John's sleeve."

"Yeah, I'm a pretty good cook I guess."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing, it was a bad joke. The kid I brought along with me, his name is Jerrod, he was locked in a closet in the house I hid inside of. He's been there for days I think."

"What made you think it was a good idea to bring him here?"

"The Anarchist was going to kill him. When I saved him from that, I wasn't about to just leave him there."

"What do you expect to do with him? Clearly he wasn't wanted."

"Keep him here?"

"What? You think I like recruiting kids? You were a special exception."

John reached into his back pocket and pulled out the drugs that he almost lost on the delivery. Alexander looked surprised to see he still had it.

"Can't he be one too?"

Alexander bit his lip. He sighed and took the drugs from John and put it in his desk.

"You want to know why I keep giving you these delivery jobs John? You want to know why I never give you a gun? You remember what I told you right? You can't run away from what you do. I don't want to make you do anything that you'll want to run away from kid."

John looked at the gun he carried while Alexander spoke to him, and Alexander noticed.

"That's exactly what I mean. You've done more than most kids that haven't grown up in a war zone could ever handle. I don't want you to do anything worse...but one day, I may need to ask you to. And this kid, he's gonna be your responsibility. I take care of the schooling, he can have a place to sleep and eat here, but fuck, it's on you to decide if he should do what we do."

"You sound like you are so intent on preserving innocence, why is that?"

"Innocence?" Alexander repeated with disbelief, "John, innocence is reserved for those who grow up in warm, loving homes that don't ever get a taste of the reality that is life. Your innocence is gone, I just don't want to pull you farther away from it than I need to."

"What about Anastasia?"

"What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"She...knows that I killed somebody."

Alexander frowned at him.

"Like I said, no one around here is innocent. There is just good people, and people."

"What about bad people?"

"My boy, if there is one thing I don't like, and there are a lot of those things, it is hypocrisy."

John's expression turned glum after hearing that.

"Yeah, you're a smart kid, I can tell you got that. So you still think I should keep Jerrod around?"

"He was locked up and left for dead, whatever people he had didn't want him. I saved him, I won't abandon him."

"Fine then, but remember, he's your little brother now. Your problem, your responsibility."

John nodded and turned to leave.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Alexander asked.

John stopped and thought for a moment, then he remembered he still had the gun. He left it on a table and moved to leave again.

"And?" Alexander said.

John was confused, he couldn't think of anything that he was forgetting. Alexander handed him a credit chit; his pay.

"But the job went bad." John told him.

"I don't give a fuck. You earned that my boy."

"Thanks." John said sincerely.

"Don't mention it. Now get outta here, you and Anastasia have homework apparently."

John looked up at Alexander. His expression read something else other than concern for his schooling. John had a good idea of what it was.

* * *

><p>"Here you go!" Anastasia said happily.<p>

She placed a plate of food with a tall glass of juice on a small table. After she had gotten Jerrod some clean clothes she had brought him to her room so he could eat. Jerrod just stood and looked confused however.

"What are you waiting for? Go ahead." Anastasia insisted.

"Really?" Jerrod asked.

"Of course, its all for you."

Jerrod slowly sat down at the table, next to Anastasia. He had a voracious hunger, and his tongue quivered at the sight of the food and drink. He slowly, almost fearfully reached towards the plate. He stopped to look at Anastasia before he actually grabbed it, silently awaiting her permission. She smiled warmly at him, and that gave him the courage to eat something. The food wasn't anything special, but after days of being deprived of any nourishment, it was like a gourmet meal from a five star restaurant. Jerrod couldn't console himself from crying, and tears started to run down his cheeks.

"Hey, whats wrong?" Anastasia asked.

"You're being so nice to me." Jerrod replied simply.

Anastasia couldn't believe what she heard. This was just something that had to be done in her opinion, it wasn't some great act of kindness that she had to dig deep for. She didn't understand why Jerrod felt the way he did, but she also didn't know that he had never known kindness in his life until now.

"He's looking better already." John said upon entering the room.

Anastasia turned and gave him a little smile, not her usual jaw stretching one though. John sensed that it was because of what she learnt not long ago. John sat down at the table, opposite of Jerrod and her. Jerrod didn't stop eating but he stared at John attentively.

"I talked to my boss Jerrod and he said it's okay if you stay here." John told Jerrod.

Jerrod stopped eating suddenly, dropping his spoon mid scoop.

"I...can stay?"

"If you want to, unless you want to go back to your family. Do you know where they are?"

Jerrod remembered his father locking him inside the closet. He remembered screaming as he heard his parent's footsteps walk out and leaving him in the dark, unable to move, barely able to breath, afraid and hurt. He started crying again, and clenched his small hands into tight fists.

He remembered how angry he was.

"Hey..." Someone said.

So afraid, so hurt, so angry. Jerrod's uncut finger nails cut into his palms.

"Hey!"

Jerrod came back to the present and noticed the blood under his nails and on his hands. He smiled at it, he forced himself to. It looked awkward and painful on his face. John analyzed the little boy. Something was off about him clearly, but looking into his gray eyes, he saw something that he didn't feel right to turn away from, something akin to himself.

"You don't need to think about that Jerrod. That's all over now. You're here, with me, and I'll do my best to take care of you. It won't be easy though, I, I don't know how to explain it..." John struggled to say.

"You don't need to explain it, not right now." Anastasia interjected, "Just know that you have people that care about you, and we always will..." She glanced over at John.

"No matter what." She concluded, smiling at him again.

The three of them sat together, happy just to be in each other's company. They would enjoy this for years to come, it remained one of the constant things in their turbulent lives.

* * *

><p><em>If it wasn't clearly stated in the last sentence, the next chapter of this story will have moved forward by some time. Thanks to everyone that reviewed again. Read, review, and enjoy.<em>


	23. Growing Up

"Notes..notes...homework, homework, and more homework." John said with exasperation.

He scrolled through the seemingly endless words recorded in his personal omni tool. It was a much better model than what his school provided for the students; faster, more powerful, more functions, and of course a greater storage capacity. Despite that, his habitually hoarding of just about everything, including digital information, had almost exhausted the memory of his omni tool.

"Hey, John!"

"How's it going Terry?" John replied, only looking halfway up from his omni tool.

"You up for beers later?"

John moved to the side so that the both of them could get by each other in one of the hallways of the Reds base.

"C'mon Terry, you know I don't drink."

"What, are you underaged or something?"

"Yes." John deadpanned with a kind smile.

"Still? Huh, well get back to me in a few years then!"

"Will do."

John shook his head with a small grin. The Reds base wasn't really a place meant for children...

"Oh what the hell?" John exclaimed when he opened the door to his room and was greeted by a heavy odour of red sand.

Then again, he wasn't quite a child anymore.

"Enjoying yourself?" John asked before waving the scent from his nose.

The person he had asked was laying sprawled across one of the two beds and using a small, sharp, and stolen military knife to cut up and eat an apple.

"I'm getting by." Jerrod replied lazily.

"Most fourteen year olds don't experiment this much with drugs you know." John told Jerrod while sitting down heavily onto his own bed.

"I don't think most sixteen year olds act like they are fifty either." Jerrod replied.

"You know that shit will make your teeth glow red right?"

"Can you point out to me the downside of having glowing red teeth? Just think about Halloween!" Jerrod smiled widely and shook his head like a dog.

John snickered and stood up. He kicked a bundle of Jerrod's clothes over to Jerrod's side of the room. He then grabbed Jerrod's bag, which was also on the wrong side of the room, and tossed it over to the younger boy. It landed heavily on Jerrod's stomach, making him cough. It sounded like an old smoker's cough, and John shook his head at this.

"You are one hell of a fool for sure. Get your stuff together and lets go, our classes are starting soon."

Jerrod stood from his bed and dropped his bag on the ground. He stared with a look of anger on his face at John. Jerrod stood about two inches taller than John despite being two years younger, he was already 6'2, and filled his height. Without warning he tackled into John's stomach.

John, while smaller overall, was stronger than he looked. He wrapped his arms around Jerrod's mid section and lifted him into the air with the younger boy's legs pointing upwards. John turned and dropped Jerrod onto his bed hard enough to make him bounce. Before Jerrod could get up John jumped on him and put him into loose but firm chokehold.

"Are you gonna say it?" John asked.

Jerrod just squirmed underneath him. John dug one of his knees into Jerrod's back.

"Well?" John asked.

Jerrod just laughed. John ground his knee more into Jerrod's back; it was something that he knew from first hand experience was rather painful, but Jerrod still just laughed. He always just laughed. John snickered at his little brother and let him up.

"That's zero for eight Jerry. When are you ever gonna beat me?"

"I'll let you know when I do Johnny."

* * *

><p>The walk to school was mostly uneventful. Except for the occasional street fight that Jerrod wanted to stay and watch the two of them had gotten to school on time. The neighborhood had gotten more crime ridden in recent years; fights, drugs, prostitution, vandalism, kidnapping, smuggling, murders and the like, nothing most people around here weren't used to.<p>

"Alright, can you please at least try to stay out of trouble?" John asked Jerrod in the middle of the hallway.

"No promises." Jerrod said with a smirk before leaving in the other direction.

John watched as Jerrod roughly brushed past another student hard enough to knock him aside. Jerrod gave the other boy a look like it was his fault and kept on walking. John sighed through thinly pressed lips before continuing on to his class. He and Jerrod didn't have any classes together so John couldn't keep an eye on him for six hours. There have been times when Jerrod had met him again and had cuts and bruises he didn't have before. Jerrod's hair trigger temper, combined with the fact that he almost always had that knife on him, gave John plenty to worry about in class.

When John had gotten to his classroom most of the seats had been taken. A desk at the back had an open seat among the two if had. John didn't usually sit next to anybody, but this person he didn't mind. He quietly pulled out the chair and slid into it and then slammed his bag onto the desk, which woke up the classmate sitting next to him with a small cry.

"Rough night Marcus?" John teased.

Marcus pulled his hood off and wiped the drool from his chin. He scowled in disgust and annoyance at the small puddle of drool he had left on the desk top.

"Yeah, the roughest. Did you know we had a test today?" Marcus asked.

"Yep."

"Oh, we'll thanks for the heads up buddy," Marcus said sarcastically, "I found out at midnight last night."

Marcus wiped his damp hands on his pants and then used his sleeve to dry up the desk, all while grumbling rather pitifully. John rolled his eyes at Marcus and slumped into his chair. He thought that if he sat too upright he would make Marcus even more distressed.

"I'm gonna fail this test so bad." Marcus said in a defeated tone.

"No your're not." John assured.

"Yeah I am."

"No, you are not." John said stubbornly.

John had be friends with Marcus for a few years now. The two of them had been in enough classes together that it became terribly awkward that they hadn't ever spoken before. Marcus was infuriatingly shy at first but he quickly warmed up to John. When John had introduced him to Jerrod and Anastasia, Marcus was near inseparable any of them. Marcus was still shy as ever though, never really talking to anyone else. Now that he thought about it, Marcus would probably avoid Jerrod all together unless John were there. Jerrod's aggressive personality would put Marcus into a worry ridden stupor.

* * *

><p>Jerrod listened to the teacher's lecture and was dangling on unconsciousness. He actually enjoyed learning things a great deal, but this teacher just had a way of making everything dreary. He occupied himself by gazing around the room and thinking about whatever interested him.<p>

There were these three idiots behind him; they all had M as the first letter in their names, that kept mumbling things to each other and started giggling like women. Jerrod tried to pay them no mind but he couldn't help listening sometimes.

Aside from those three he didn't have much of an opinion of anybody else in the class; school wasn't what he expected. His own parents never let him attend school so he was excited when Alxander told him that he was enrolling him. He initially believed that school was where everyone was friends with everyone, like how it was in too many movies and television shows. In reality, he didn't like any of these people.

It wasn't until his gazing about the classroom had come full circle that he sighted one person that maybe he didn't dislike. Her name was Sasha. She was quiet, poised, very pretty with long jet black hair that reached down to her ass, which barely fit into her chair. Jerrod was so preoccupied with his thoughts that when Sasha turned to look at him, he was caught red handed. Jerrod's pulse kicked into overdrive as his eyes shot up and met hers for a few seconds. He quickly turned his head away and did his absolute best to just act like that hadn't happened. He could hear the three annoying boys behind him start whispering about something with renewed amusement. He caught two of the words; perverted and idiot.

Jerrod knew they were talking about him, laughing at him, maybe hating him? His lips pulled into a crooked, almost demented looking smile like he was trying to stifle tears, and his nose and eyebrow twitched erratically. The memories of some of the times his parents had called him names for no apparent reason made him feel like a small, scared child again. He chuckled inwardly, he forced himself to do it. While he did that, his hand slowly, almost unconsciously, started sliding to the knife in his pocket.

"You coming?"

The light of realization came to Jerrod's eyes, pulling him from his murderous intent. He blinked and looked over to find John leaning in the doorway. He blinked again and glanced around to find that he was the last person in the classroom, even the teacher had left. He snickered and stood up from his seat, not bothering to push the chair back in.

"Is that Marcus I smell?" Jerrod asked louder than needed.

Marcus smirked and shook his head underneath his hood. Jerrod slapped him across the back in a friendly gesture. Marcus shuffled next to the two larger boys as they made their way to exit the school. Amidst the hall hobos, they were mostly under the radar. The fact that John and Jerrod were Reds members wasn't a widely known thing, and Marcus was mostly ignored by everyone just for being insignificant. They had just exited into the student landing pads when they noticed the one person that refused to ignore them.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the three faggots!" Victor shouted through his hands at them.

Victor had been a nuisance to John for awhile now, Marcus has had to put up with him even longer because he had been in school longer. Once Jerrod had been enrolled in the same school all those years ago, eventually Victor took him as part of his game. Victor himself was the epitome of the school bully; big, dumb in terms of prospects, and angry about something that he takes out on everybody. He was crowded around a hover car with several of his underlings, one of them likely the owner of the vehicle.

"Oh god..." Marcus whispered.

"Just ignore him." John said.

John spoke as the mediator but in reality, he wanted to knock Victor's block off. He had been picking on Marcus for as long as he can remember, he tried to pick on John himself but John proved too headstrong to make good sport, and he tried to pic on Jerrod once. That was the first and only time John had ever come to blows with Victor. John had lost, but even though they were just younger kids when it happened, Victor now always watched his step for the most part, and made sure that he wasn't alone.

"What are you boys up to today? Going to blow each other? Hey Marcus, is it your turn to be in the middle?" Victor mocked.

Marcus pulled his hood farther over his head. He was relieved to find that they had finally reached their destination, a light pink hover car. The top of it opened and slid back to reveal three empty seats, and the driver.

"Afternoon boys!" Anastasia said cheerfully.

The sight of this glowing young woman improved the moods of all three of them instantly.

"So this is the new ride?" Jerrod asked before plopping onto the hood.

"Yes, brand new, as in I just got it yesterday." Anastasia told him, putting emphasis on new.

"Eh? I like the paint job." Jerrod told her, smiling.

"I'm surprised you can see the paint under that scratch you just put on my hood."

"What scratch?" Jerrod asked with mock innocence.

"This one right here..." Anastasia pointed to a spot close to where the roof locked into the driver's side.

Jerrod rolled his eyes and pulled himself along the hood to look, and Anastasia flicked him sharply in the forehead.

"Now get off before I leave you here." Anastasia said harmlessly, smiling at him.

"I'm moving, I'm moving. You're lucky that you are the only with a licence, otherwise you'd be lonely without us because we would have no reason to hang with you."

"Hm, do you feel the same way Marcus?" Anastasia asked with an excessively quizzical tone.

Marcus slid into the back seat behind the driver's side and squeezed her shoulders affectionately.

"Not at all." He answered.

"Well thats just one opinion..." Jerrod joked while about to sit in the front passenger seat.

John grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back before he could sit. John quickly sat himself in the spot instead.

"Make that two." John said while smiling at Jerrod toothily.

"Aw, I feel so loved." Anastasia said while slapping John's knee.

"Three." Jerrod added with a fake sigh as he sat in the back passenger side seat.

Victor had been watching the four people joke around happily, and it angered him. He thought Anastasia was one of the hottest girls he knew and it angered him that she was always with the three of them, or at least John.

"What, are you three fags gonna share her or something? Why don't you come on over here babe, I'll do a better job than the three of them combined!" Victor shouted, earning the whoops of his henchmen.

John's jaw clenched when he heard that. He turned his head to Anastasia to find her normally large smile had waned a bit. He looked at her sorrowfully, begging her pardon with his eyes. Mercifully, she gave him a look that assured him that she wasn't terribly offended. Her next look was one of terror and urgency. Curiously, John followed her gaze and saw Jerrod hopping angrily out of the hover car and stomping towards Victor's group.

"Stop him!" Anastasia urged John, but she didn't have to tell him.

John speed walked up to Jerrod and blocked his way, using his arm to start guiding Jerrod back.

"Get back in the car Jerry." John ordered.

"Johnny either let me go or come with me but don't tell me to leave it alone." Jerrod said lividly.

"Come on man just..." John noticed Jerrod had his knife in his hand, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" John asked.

Jerrod didn't answer. John pushed him back and blocked Victor's sight from him.

"I said, what the hell do you think you're doing?" John asked angrily.

Jerrod's lips pressed together thinly. He looked at John and then to his knife. The look John gave him was one of disappointment and irritation, but also understanding. John felt what he did, maybe not exactly the same way but he felt it nonetheless. John nodded towards the car and this time Jerrod obeyed. The two of them walked back despite hearing Victor's laughing. Jerrod climbed in and noticed Anastasia was looking at him with a stare that made him feel sick. She noticed the knife he had brandished in anger. Her shocked eyes broke him down to his core. He pocketed the knife and turned his head, unable to meet her pure gaze. John got in as well and noticed Anastasia's face. He looked back and noticed Jerrod looking away. Marcus was quiet, looking at his feet. He sighed and rubbed his face.

"Let's just go." He said.

* * *

><p>After a short fly over the lower city Anastasia had dropped Marcus off near his house. He waved happily to them from the ground, and all three of them returned the gesture. The ride had been awkwardly quiet. John wanted to say something to one of them; he wanted to tell Jerrod that he understood how he felt and acted earlier, he wanted to tell Anastasia that they weren't those kinds of people and wanted to ask her to forgive him, even though he knew she didn't hold anything against either of them. She was too forgiving, too loving, too good for that.<p>

His omni tool suddenly beeped, indicating a message has been sent to him. He opened it and skimmed over it. His brow furrowed more and more as he went through it.

"We should hurry back Anastasia." He told her.

Jerrod tilted his head at the urgency in John's voice.

"What's wrong? Who messaged you?" Anastasia asked.

John turned the tool off and leaned back into his seat.

"Your dad."

* * *

><p><em>So obviously a few years have past and our characters are no longer little children. I feel like this story is dragging on so I'm going to try and move things along, I'll also try to update much sooner. Read, review, and enjoy.<em>

_Update: Thanks Torexile for pointing out my grammar mistakes._


	24. You Haven't Seen Anything Yet

The tension was still high. Jerrod walked at a noticeably quicker pace. John sighed and rubbed his forehead and glanced at Anastasia next to him. She gave him a slight smile. Anastasia had flown them back quickly when John had gotten Alexander's call, but all three of them remained pretty quiet for the most part. Anastasia was more saddened by how the mood had shifted rather than what Victor had said. John was frustrated by Jerrod's impulsiveness with the knife, but also frustrated with himself; he shared Jerrod's sentiments more than he wanted to admit. Jerrod was just plain angry; murderously angry. So angry that he smashed his fist against the wall, making a loud bang.

"You better check that attitude before we go in to meet the old man." John warned gruffly.

Jerrod tilted his head back, barely, to glance at John, but kept quiet and stood with his hands in his pockets. John straightened his shirt, pulled his pants up, and made sure his shoes were tied. After he was satisfied he knocked on the wooden doors leading to Alexander's office.

"What the hell do you want?" Alexander's voice asked from the other side.

"It's..."

"Open up dad!" Anastasia cut in loudly.

"Oh, took you long enough. Get in."

Anastasia gave John a smug smirk that he met by rolling his eyes. Jerrod gave a low chuckle. Alexander's office didn't change much over the years. That same sculpture still sat in the corner, the same small two butt sofas, the same heavy looking desk with a crowded top. The man himself was the only thing showing signs of time passing; a new wrinkle here, some darker and fuller facial hair there. John, Jerrod, and Anastasia changed more over the years than Alexander and his office had.

John stood in the middle of the room like he were waiting for orders, which he was. Jerrod sat down heavily on one of the sofas, placing his feet on the coffee table in front of it. A glance from Alexander made him move his feet off the table. Anastasia noticed this and sat on the edge of Alexander's table. Anyone else would have gotten an earful, Anastasia just received a knowing smirk. She winked at Jerrod after this, and he gave her a warm smile.

"How've you been dad?"

"Eh." Alexander replied.

"That well huh?" Anastasia replied.

"Eh." Alexander, and Jerrod mimicking in mockery, both responded.

Alexander gave Jerrod a slightly amused look, but then his face became serious when he noticed John looking at him expectantly.

"Dove, I need to talk to the boys alone." Alexander told Anastasia.

"Are you gonna give them the talk?" She teased.

"Hell I didn't even get the talk, but clearly I figured it out."

"Ew dad." Anastasia said.

"We're still minors you know..." John reminded, pretending to be prudish.

"Are we talking about sex?!" Jerrod asked with feigned ignorance.

"Dammit girl look what you've done, scram will you!" Alexander ordered with stifled laughter.

Anastasia kissed him on the cheek before scooting off his desk. She squeezed John's shoulder and rubbed Jerrod's head as she walked out. Both boys looked at her longingly as she left the room.

"Ahem." Alexander coughed.

They both twisted their heads back around, with barely contained smirks. John stifled himself first.

"Your message said that this was really important?" John asked Alexander.

"Lad, you have no idea."

Alexander pulled out of his desk a familiar looking cylinder; the same make as all the others John had transported while carrying the Reds closely guarded narcotics.

"What kind of hall do we got?" Jerrod asked from the couch.

"See for yourself." Alexander said before tossing the canister to Jerrod.

Jerrod caught it in one hand, barely. The weight took him by surprise.

"Wow, whats the occasion?"

"An old...friend is in town. The delivery location is in Dyson Square."

"The upper city?!" John exclaimed.

"Yes. Very public, a large police presence, and you'll be meeting Tom there, almost as safe as I would like it to be."

"Almost? It sounds like you've stopped just short of preparing an army." Jerrod said.

Alexander poked at the inside of his mouth with his tongue and rubbed his brow. John was very surprised by the amount of stress this job was causing the man.

"Who is this person we're delivering to?" John finally asked.

"His name is Ricardo, but I just call him Rick, you shall not. His last name isn't necessary, it wasn't needed in our line of work."

"'Our' line of work?" John asked.

"He's an old friend, like I said. I'll tell you more when I get back."

John bit his tongue for now. He nodded his head towards the door, urging Jerrod to get out of his seat and leave.

"Hey John, hang back a moment?" Alexander asked.

John lingered by the door for a moment, and closing it completely after another. He suspected that no one else, Jerrod included, needed to hear this.

"When you walked in here, all three of you, I could see this look upon all your faces."

"Its nothing..."

"You all looked fucking pissed, even my little dove, and that doesn't happen, ever. Talk to me lad." Alexander ordered.

Reluctantly, John gave a short recap of the encounter with Victor; the things he had said, the thing Jerrod had tried to do, and partially, the things John wanted to do.

"He pulled a knife huh?" Alexander asked.

John didn't expect that to be the thing to grab Alexander's attention.

"Jerry is tempermental..."

"That's one way of putting it." Alexander added dryly.

"...but he means well!" John finished.

"Oh, I'm sure. I know he's like a brother to you John, and I like him well enough, but I'll tell ya, theres been something off about that boy ever since you brought him here. I mean, a six year old going through something like..."

"As opposed to an eight year old going through something like killing?" John quipped.

"Heh heh, don't get pissy with me. I know the both of you have been through a lot, thats why I'm sending the pair of you. Here..."

Alexander slid open another draw and took out a pristine looking pistol. John's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon. He was suddenly very nervous, and excited.

"You shouldn't need it, but its about time I started giving you the respect you deserve. I know you'll be smart about it John."

John picked up the pistol and felt the weight. He felt differently holding a gun this time as opposed to before; he felt powerful.

John and Jerrod boarded a shuttle that travelled between the lower and upper cities. It wasn't very crowded; people living in one of the cities rarely had travel to the other. The only people that were onboard were the true middle class; men and women that worked in one of the cities but lived in the other. John patted his back for the tenth time to make sure his pistol was still there, hidden but easy to grab. Jerrod noticed his unease. The younger boy rubbed his open palms along his pants.

"This feels big, huh?" Jerrod half asked, half stated.

"Definitely." John answered.

Jerrod nodded to the concealed weapon John carried; "We expecting trouble?"

"Aren't we always?"

The inside of the shuttle started to light up, but not with lights. It was the sun, now unblocked by the bottom of the upper city. It's warming light washed over John and Jerrod.

"Right now, I'm expecting to get thrown in jail just for being up here." Jerrod answered.

"We aren't wanted, if thats what you're worried about." John reassured.

Jerrod looked out the windows to see the bright, bustling streets and buildings, and the even brighter and more bustling people. He only felt a deeply imbedded loathing.

"We aren't meant for this place either." Jerrod said.

John joined him by the window. The shuttle had started it's descent onto the landing pad.

"Says who?" John asked.

"Come on Johnny, these people would drop a piece of garbage down a hole and not think twice about who it may hit below. They've got everything."

"They've got things, they always have. They don't know what its like to have nothing; they don't know how sweet it is to get something..."

"Or to take something." Jerrod added.

Jerrod glanced up at John, expecting him to take the excessively high road and scold him for speaking so ruthlessly. Surprisingly, John had a thin smirk on his face instead.

"Exactly. These people ain't any different from the ones below."

"They have money..."

"So do we! Money isn't the issue. People are lost, it doesn't matter where they were born or where they live. The posh and polished up here don't give a damn about us, the ones down below, the ones that should be sympathetic; the ones that should care, even less so."

Jerrod cringed at the last part; "the ones that should care,"; that reminded him of his parents. Tears started to well up in his eyes, and a stifled sob caught in his throat. Sadness tried to take him, but instead he smiled a toothy grin. He forced himself to.

"People suck." Jerrod blurted out humorously.

"Most of them, yeah." John added.

The shuttle door opened and everyone stepped off. John and Jerrod were sure that everyone could tell that they were from the lower city as if it were a stench coming from them. The security guard in particular eyed them suspiciously.

They both hurried out into the street and started heading towards the meet up point. The upper city was like a clean reflection of a dirty picture, the lower city. Many shops were filled with people looking to buy, or people dreaming of buying. What the shops and owners, even customers, had different compared to the lower city variety was a snobbish and self entitled attitude.

As if that wasn't obnoxious enough, the upper city even had a 'gang' presence. John and Jerrod found it laughable, these gangs were little more than youth and adults clinging to their youth flaunting their money and style with a hard attitude. Clearly, even the police didn't take them seriously.

"That looks like the place." John said suddenly, pointing to a small park area.

Dyson Sqaure was a tree and bush ridden park with bus intersections bordering it on all sides. Couples and joggers that preffered the outdoors to the gym were the only ones around. This was still more public than John and Jerrod were accustomed to, but Alexander had insisted upon it, almost fearfully. Alexander had instructed that Tom would be meeting the two of them in the center of the square, and sure enough, he was there sitting on a bench. He practically jumped out of his seat when he noticed the two of them.

"You two sure are cutting things close with the time." Tome scolded.

"We missed our bus!" Jerrod shrugged.

Tome glared at him, shutting his humor up.

"Why are you so on edge Tom?" John asked.

"How can I not be? I'm surprised you two aren't."

"What's so special about this buyer?"

"Are you serious? The boss didn't tell you?"

"Tell us what?" Jerrod said with frustration.

Tom rubbed his face while grumbling; "I don't know if I should tell you if Alexander didn't…..fine, just, be on your best behavior." Tom ordered as if they were kids.

The three waited restlessly for five more minutes before the man that John presumed to be Ricardo showed up, in the company of another, younger man. Ricardo wasn't very tall muscular, nor did he have any especially intimidating features. His friend was slightly more so in all regards. Ricardo wore an expensive looking suit jacket, shoes, and more casual pants. He bore an amused grin.

"It's been awhile Tom." Ricardo stated.

Tom silently grunted, but John noticed him gulp down a lump in his throat.

"Are these your boys, your backup, or both?"

"Tom is the backup." Jerrod answered.

"Oh really now? That's pretty boastful talk for a, what are you seventeen?"

"You're three years too far."

"Fourteen! Damn son you peaked quickly. I always suspected you of liking the kids Tom, but this is just unprofessional." Ricardo joked.

Tom frowned but didn't rebuttle. Jerrod stifled a chuckle, but he wasn't siding with Ricardo in anyway. John stepped forward, which made the man that accompanied Ricardo physically tense.

"Relax." John told him condescendingly.

John produced the canister that contained the drugs he was to deliver. Ricardo pursed his lips and peeked over at Tom once again, seemingly curious as to why he was not the one doing this.

"And you are?" Ricardo asked.

"Name's John, Rick." John answered.

Ricardo's eyes narrowed, making the sides of his eyes crease, showing his age.

"You, young man, have some gumption. You've got the look of a military man about you, ever seen any action?"

"Sixteen year olds can't join the military."

"Holy shit, the Reds are really robbing the cradles!" Ricardo said in disbelief.

"I've seen plenty of action though, I aim to please." John said whilst offering the canister.

Ricardo took it and tossed it back and forth between his hands. He nodded his head in satisfaction, and then extended his hand to John.

"It's been a, pleasure." Ricardo stated.

John thought it over for a moment, then thought it would do no harm in shaking his hand. Once he did, Ricardo gripped his hand firmly, then suddenly pulled his arm close and lifted his sleeve. The look on his face was one of affirmed expectations, and slight disappointment.

"No ink? Anywhere?" Ricardo asked.

"No."

"Huh." Ricardo said dismissively.

The high and mighty look Ricardo had, along with the unimpressed tone in his voice, irritated John greatly. It was one thing to deal with idiots like Victor that taunted him on an equal level; no one had looked down on John like this in years. Impulsively, John pulled Ricardo's arm close and lifted his sleeve, rather aggressively. Ricardo's companion saw this sudden action as a threat and drew a pistol and pointed it at John.

"Hey!" Jerrod shouted, begging to make a move towards the gunman.

"Don't!" Tom warned, forcefully pushing Jerrod back.

"Fucking back off unless you want to get the first one!"

John didn't even look at the gun pointed at his head; he was too focused on the tattoo that covered Ricardo's forearm. It was the tattoo painted on members of the Reds greatest and most bitter rivals, the Anarchists.

Ricardo was chuckling at the entire scene. He waved the gunman down, but he stayed very poised for action. John let Ricardo's arm go and looked back at Tom, searching for an explanation. The veteran Red's enforcer shook his head dissaprovingly at him.

"I see a little bit of myself in you John, that's good and bad. Judging by that dumb look on your face, this is a little over your head. Go on, run back to Alexander, he'll want to enlighten you if you tell him I asked him to. You haven't seen any action yet."

Jerrod stepped up beside John. He looked at him expectantly but John couldn't give him the direction he was looking for.

"So we're good?" Tom suddenly asked.

"Yeah." Ricardo said in a low voice, "Let's go Frank." Ricardo told the gunman.

Both of them turned to leave, with Frank lingering on John and Jerrod with a venomous stare. Once they both appeared to be out of earshot, John turned on time with confusion and frustration.

"What the hell is going on Tom?"

"All three of us are going back to base, and if either of you try to pull the kind of crap that you did just now, I'll kill you first before they do."


	25. Historic Cruelty

Tom was five steps ahead of John and Jerrod when they returned to the base, and gaining ground quickly. The other Reds members that happened to be in the hallway either got out of his way or were forcefully shoved out of the way.

"Dammit Tom, I want an explanation.." John demanded.

"Shut the hell up!" Tom ordered.

Jerrod grumbled behind John. They realized that Tom was heading towards Alexander's office. He approached the large wooden doors and tried to push them open, but they were locked. Jerrod and John had caught up to him now.

"Seriously, why are we dealing with Anarchists?" John pressed.

"Boss are you in there?" Tom asked, ignoring John.

No answer came. Another gang member passing by noticed the three of them and stopped to stare.

"You guys looking for the boss?" He asked.

"Yes!" Tom said with frustration.

"I think he went down to the armoury."

Without a thank you Tom pushed his way past John and Jerrod and lead them, mostly because he couldn't help it, to the armoury in the basement. The Reds had an assortment of weapons down here that were beyond the scope of most street gangs, but then the Reds weren't most street gangs. The walls were heavy and dark, like they needed to be in order to contain the mere presence of so many weapons. As it was told, Alexander was down here, amongst the guns, standing at a table tinkering with a machine pistol. It was quite a different image of him compared to the usual; a middle aged man hunched over a lavish and meticulously organized desk; he looked more comfortable. His look was one of relief when he noticed the three of them.

"I'm glad the three of you.."

"You need to whip these boys into line boss!" Tom interrupted angrily.

"What?"

"No, you need to start letting us in on things!" John countered.

"Hold on a second.."

"You could've got us shot into tiny pieces kid." Tom said.

"Says the guy who was too scared of one man to use his own gun." Jerrod mocked.

"Fuck you! It wouldn't as easy as that, not by a long shot!"

"What the hell are you three bickering about?" Alexander asked.

The three of them quieted down. Tom looked back and forth between the two teens, daring one of them to say something. When he was sure they wouldn't he made his case.

"The drop was good, but John let his pride get in the way. He grabbed Ricardo's sleeve and lifted it; saw his ink."

"He did the same to me. Alexander, why are we trading with..." John was suddenly cut off by the bullet that flew past his ear.

John was then dancing to avoid the shots Alexander was firing at his feet. John fell over and had to roll out of the way. Jerrod picked him up and now both of them took cover behind a crate. Alexander had finally run out of ammo and threw his pistol at them for good measure.

"What...what the,"

"Fucking hell! You trying to kill us?" Jerrod interrupted John.

"I might as well, you two seem so keen on getting yourselves killed already!" Alexander scolded.

John and Jerrod cautiously stepped out from behind the crate, both of their hearts were still in their throats.

"Pulling shit like that, Tom is right, you would've, no, you should've been shot to all fucking hell!"

"I guess I made a good impression." John stated.

Alexander smirked condescendingly at John's tone.

"You cheeky little bastard...alright then, story time. I wasn't always the charming bag of sweat, stress and and facial hair you see before you. I used to be in the military, was part of a private security firm. Our client was being targeted by a mercenary crew working for business rival. Ricardo headed those mercenaries. Eight years, I spent eight years with that security company, working for the same client. Needless to say, my crew and Ricardo's got pretty aquainted."

"So he's been your enemy all this time over a job duty?" Jerrod asked.

"I'm getting to that. Anyway, our client eventually decided that he didn't need our protection anymore. He set us up, sent us on a job that we didn't know was suicide; guess he didn't wanna pay up. Ricardo and his mercs were waiting for us. They killed three of us before we surrendered. Instead of finishing us off though, he gave us a choice. Die, or join up with his crew. Honour among mercs I guess. One guy, dummy, he had too much pride. Ricardo's brother Frank blew his brains out, half of it splashed onto my boots. Obviously, I took the offer. He helped me get even with my backstabbing client, then we broke away from his. We ran as one big old gun toting family after that for a few years."

"So why all the animosity now?" John asked.

"Basically the same reasons I don't like his gang now; brutality, and too much heat. Under Ricardo's leadership we were kicking ass and not bothering to take names. I couldn't use a public washroom without finding a wanted poster. I didn't have the stomach for it."

"You still ended up as a gangster." John reminded.

"This gang doesn't kill unless needed. This gang doesn't butcher someone that looks at you sideways. This gang has kept it's members safe. Anyway, I'm losing my train of thought; oh yeah, when I left, Ricardo took it hard. He tried to kill me."

"Why?"

"Why not? Secrets, loose ends, betrayal, who knows. By making these little trades, it helps to prevent an all out war between the two of us. For how long, I don't know, but your stunt definitely didn't help things."

"You should kill them, all of them." Jerrod said.

"You think its that easy?"

"I think its worth a try." Jerrod said, visibly annoyed.

He turned and started climbing the stairs. John looked after him, Jerrod clearly wasn't pleased by what he had heard. Tom momentarily left as well, seemingly satisfied by Alexander's recap.

"So thats it? Appeasement?" John asked.

"Yep."

"For how long? Ricardo doesn't seem like the kind of guy to sit back for long, and I've only just met him."

"How much do you want to be part of this John? You're so grown up but I can't help but looking at you like a kid still, I don't know if you're suited for this. I have a...specialist group. Some folks I know from around the area and from past dealings. I can't ask you to be a part of that, but I won't tell you that you can't.

"Why can't you ask me? What's so bad about it?"

"This is a group of some of the best liars, schemers, sneakers, and killers I know John. The seediest part of my work. Can you fathom that? Can you deal with that?"

"You doubt my resolve?" John said stubbornly.

"I'll know after this; one of the reasons Ricardo and I have been fighting for so long, one of the many reasons I hate him so goddamn much, the reason I have this group and the reason I get sick every time I lose one of my own to his gang is because he took something from me." Tears were threatening to pour from Alexander's eyes.

"What?" John asked, dreading the answer.

"My wife. Anastasia's mother. My little dove still believes that her mom just got sick; she doesn't know that Ricardo had her poisoned like a bug. I lost my daughter for years because I just wasn't fit to raise her after her mom died. Now she lives her whole life being the kindest girl in the whole world not knowing that she is the victim of unforgivable cruelty."

John stared back at Alexander, awe struck. If Alexander had any doubt for John's resolve, it was gone now. John was certain that he wanted to help however he could. He was certain that he now hated Ricardo, and anyone that followed him, with his entire being.


	26. Promises

John found Jerrod in their shared room. Jerrod was laying on his bed, turned on his side and away from the door. John knew he wasn't asleep.

"Wanna talk?" John asked.

"Nope."

John sighed and rubbed his face.

"Turn around."

Jerrod didn't comply. John forcibly turned him without much of a struggle. Jerrod was holding his knife and John saw deep gashes in the wall next to his bed.

"Well at least it's the wall." John scolded.

"What, do you think I'm emo or something?"

"I wouldn't put it past you."

"Screw you John!"

"Screw me? Screw you!"

Jerrod sat up and swung his legs out onto the floor. John tensed for a fight but one didn't begin. Jerrod clenched and unclenched his hand and chewed on his lower lip.

"We should've done something..."

"Like what?" John asked expectantly.

"Kill that asshole! Both of them!"

"Really? So you would've just shot them right then and there, huh tough guy?"

"If I had a gun I,"

"Shut up! Killing isn't that easy, and killing someone like Ricardo sure as hell wouldn't have been easy."

"You did it easily enough with a damn pot!"

John lost his voice from that. He felt himself scowling at Jerrod but the younger boy's eyes looked triumphant.

"Where'd your guts go John?"

"They sank to the bottom of my stomach Jerrod. I've killed only two people, two! But I feel like I've killed two hundred. The thought of going any farther is..."

"Fun." Jerrod cut in with a disturbingly serious tone.

"Whatever man." John scoffed.

He stormed out of the room in anger at Jerrod's stubbornness. Jerrod remained, he tossed his knife at the wall. It stuck awkwardly, but didn't fall. The rest of the night the two boys didn't speak to each other. Rather they both messaged a sympathetic ear.

* * *

><p>Anastasia ignored the beeping of her omni tool for the moment. The final customer in a long line of confused, angry, or dim witted people approached her with an outfit in hand.<p>

"Excuse me, you don't have my size." The plus, plus, plus sized woman stated.

Anastasia only needed a glance to notice that the outfit was the largest variety they carried.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm afraid that is the largest size we have available." Anastasia explained politely.

"You know what? You guys should really think it through before you make these things when it comes to sizes!" The woman said, dropping the outfit onto the counter.

"Ma'am, we don't make the clothing..."

"Good!" The woman exclaimed before storming off.

Anastasia waited until she was out of ear shot and snickered wildly. She locked the door to the store for the night and took outfit back to it's place. She checked her omni tool while she did.

_Big J: I just don't know what to do about him._

_Little J: He's being a prick!_

"Oh, you two." She said to herself tiredly.

She walked to the back area to gather her things out of her locker. She replied to them both.

_You better figure it out, who else is going to if not his big bro?- Big J_

_Calm down Jerrod, you don't mean that.- Little J_

She punched out and left through the back exit. The shopping strip was still bustling with people crowding the late night shops, and with people loitering with their friends and family. She made her way towards the landing pads, and he omni tool went off again.

_Big J: Well thanks for not pressuring me...why doesn't his big sis say something?_

_Little J: Don't tell me to calm down. He's always talking down to me, it pisses me the fuck off!_

She got into her hovercraft and strapped herself in. She had forgotten again to turn off her radio before exiting and the music assaulted her ears. It took her by surprise and she fumbled for the volume control. She turned it down and waited for her ears to stop ringing. Two more beeps from her omni tool came as soon as they did.

_Little J: Sorry._

_Little J: For swearing so much I mean._

_It's fine.- Little J_

_Why would anything I say calm him down, if you can't?- Big J_

Anastasia took off and was soon zooming through the airways. Her work was a trip away from home but with the traffic being dead at this hour, she was making good time. Her omni tool went off twice more but she refused to check it while flying; she had already gotten a ticket twice for that. Being stuck in the middle of John and Jerrod's quarrel had already exhausted her more than work had. It wasn't the first time they bickered with each other, and every time she had to be the mediator.

She landed two blocks from the Reds base. The under city, despite never having direct sunlight, grew darker still at night. Fortunately thousands of lights from business and machinery provided enough light to see. She checked her messages as she walked.

_Big J: You've got a way with words! And that motherly aura about you._

_You saying I'm old?!- Big J_

_Big J: Older than me, heh._

"Uh, you little dummy!" Anastasia exclaimed aloud.

She picked up her pace, becoming more and more eager to get home. It was not lost upon here that the streets became more dangerous at this hour. She could feel the stares of people she passed, of people across the street, of people staring at here from alleys, windows, and parked hover crafts. She was not so naive as to believe that she went untouched because the people were not all that bad; she knew she had a reputation. A member, unofficially, of the Reds, and a girl no less. The other gang members reacted badly when a boy from their group was wronged. The few incidents when it was a female member were even worse.

Anastasia shook her head free of those thoughts. She did not support the gang lifestyle, especially not the crazy violent criminals that originated from them, but she could not be such a hypocrite as to condemn them entirely. Her father had been a part of this game for as long as she could remember. So have John and Jerrod. She loved them too much to judge them harshly.

She arrived home, the Reds base, soon enough. The night was young and teens and adults still skulked about the hallways. An elevator ride was all it took to separate the few floors with rabble from the rest of the floors, the Reds territory, official by street credibility alone. Despite this being the base of 'operations', few members actually stayed here. So the halls were quiet, and dark. She stopped on here way at a door that had light shining through a space between the sliding rail and the wall frame. The door swished open at her touch and she stepped into Jerrod's room. Four lights placed around the room kept up a barrier against the shadows of the dark room. Jerrod was sprawled across his bed, with his back propped up against the wall and his face buried in a data pad.

"Evening." Jerrod greeted.

"Evening..." She replied.

She stepped towards him and, playfully with one finger, lowered the data pad so she could see. He did not resist, smirking.

"50,000 Shades of Gray?What, a, perv!" She teased.

"Its not just about the crazy sex. Its a legitimate romance!"

"With whipping and spanking?"

Jerrod titled the data pad back up, hiding a face that legitimately looked like it had been attacked.

"Love hurts." He added, with a surprisingly serious tone.

Anastasia pressed her full lips thinly, she could tell from his tone that his characteristic sensitivity was acting up. She laid down across his legs, propping her head up on her elbow. She noticed suddenly a knife stabbed into the wall, two feet above their heads. She looked at Jerrod again and found him staring at her, his look being one of shock and shame. He aggressively reached up and yanked the blade out of the wall and tossed it across the room, making a loud bang and then falling out of sight.

"Jerry..." Anastasia said.

'What?!" He snapped.

She did not give a reply immediately, she merely looked him over. He diffused himself in moments under her gaze.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"How was work?"

"Eh, horrible as always. How was your day?"

"Eh."

"Don't 'eh' me Jerry. I've gotten an earful over text messages from you already, I know a little more than 'eh' happened."

"Why don't you ask mister know it all?"

"I will, after I get the story from mister implacably resentful!"

"The story is..."

Jerrod thought it over in his head. He knew that Anastasia knew he and John were occasionally sent to get their fingers dirty. But to have come as close as they have to possibly dying, he did not think he should be spreading that around. He could not worry her like that.

"Is that no matter what, he treats me like I'm stupid, and I can't handle myself. Everyone does."

"He doesn't think you're stupid Jerry. No one does. And if they do...fuck em!"

"Woah!" Jerrod exclaimed, for Anastasia rarely swore, if ever.

"I hope you enjoyed that, because it won't be happening again anytime soon. There's only two people whom you need to worry about, when they think about you."

"Oh?"

"John..." She accentuated.

Jerrod rolled his eyes. She poked his belly, making him giggle involuntarily. When their eyes met, she gave him a look of absolute care and attention. Jerrod was so overwhelmed, he could not stop his grin from quivering to hold back tears.

"And me." She added.

He held one of her hands in his, caressing it warmly with his thumb.

"John is gonna look out for you; you're the little brother he never had. And the both of you boys are the little brothers I never had, so you're gonna get it twice as bad from me."

Jerrod had to blink rapidly to hold the tears at bay.

"I think I'll live." He said.

"You better. I can't lose you Jerry. So make nice with Johnny, and no more, knives, please. For me."

Jerrod only nodded, he could not form any words to compliment this tenderness. She smiled and squeezed his hand before getting off his legs. She spared him a wave goodbye as the door closed behind her.

Jerrod put down the data pad, feeling the residual warmth left behind from her leave his legs.

"For you."

* * *

><p>As Anastasia stepped out of the room she bumped into someone who was standing just off to the side. She grabbed them to steady herself, placing a hand on a stiff should and another on a firm and somewhat bulging bicep.<p>

"Excuse,"

"You!" John finished.

"Oh, what are you doing just standing out here?"

"Spying, gathering intel. I was coming to talk to him, but I heard you two and stayed back."

"And what've you gathered secret agent dummy?" Anastasia teased.

They started walking down the hallway together, towards her room.

"I learned that you have way better people skills than I do."

"Well, I am real charming!"

"My lucky charm."

"I'm your lucky charm?" She asked with amusement.

"Yep. Jerrod might've killed me by tomorrow had you not talked him down." John joked.

Anastasia got quite after he said that. John let the silence linger, and analyzed her. She looked to be deep in thought, examining her response.

"Whats wrong?" John asked.

"You shouldn't joke about things like that. Especially when it comes to Jerrod."

"You're taking this to heart?"

"You know how important you guys are to me, I don't like it when you fight about anything. And...its dangerous."

"What is?"

They had reached Anastasia's room. The door opened and they stepped in. John rarely came into her room, he did not have any need to and he felt it was rude unless asked. He took note of how it looked. Girly, but mature, beyond her age. Anastasia sat on her bed and John pulled up a chair.

"I'm not stupid John,"

"I never said you were!"

"I know! I know. I'm just saying, I know that you guys are banging out there, running drugs and stuff, flying the colours maybe. It's dangerous stuff."

"We do it because,"

"Its stupid!" She suddenly snapped.

John stayed quiet for the moment. She was staring at him intensely, not angrily, but with concern and sadness.

"Its the life we have. It provides. I don't like it either." John said softly.

"I know you don't, and thats what makes me happy. You're better than that, and because of my dad you're caught up in it. Do you ever wish,"

"No!" John cut in.

"I was gonna say,"

"You were gonna say, "Do I ever wish that I had done things differently?". Hell no."

"Hell no huh?" She asked tiredly.

"Your dad is a better man than he gives himself credit for, and as gangs go, this one is pretty, 'classy'. I've had a better life with it than I ever would have at that damn orphanage. To be honest Anastasia, I probably wouldn't be alive right now if I had stayed. I wouldn't take back a single thing. It got me you..."

She looked up at him expectantly. A lump in his throat stopped what he wanted to say, what he had been feeling for years.

"And it got me Jerrod."

"Jerrod..."

"You said it was dangerous, a few minutes ago, when it comes to Jerrod? What did you mean?"

She looked like she was struggling to accept what she was about to say. She looked like she hated herself for it.

"He's not right John. Don't get me wrong; I love him so much, but he's not right. The knives, the impulsiveness, and have you seen the way he looks at people? He looks like,"

"He wants to hurt everyone and everything." John said.

"I wasn't gonna say that."

"You didn't want to say it."

"Why are you being so cynical?"

"Hey, you brought it up not me. I just speaking from what I see. You aren't wrong. I can, empathize with him."

"Meaning?"

"I don't really know, its too scary a thought to voice."

"John, if he's like this already, just think about what he would be liable to do when pushed?"

_Like what I've already been pushed to do._ John thought.

"I won't let him get to that point. I promise. I promise you." John told her.

John realized that, by making that promise, he would be choosing to cut off Jerrod from the part of his life that Alexander had just invited him into. But he would do it. He would step up to Alexander's plans, he would defend his people from the likes of Ricardo, and he would keep Jerrod from falling as low as he had. All for her.

* * *

><p><em>As I have now updated on my profile, I have not been around for a long time. I'll admit to you, the reason is because I was in jail. I had no internet access and I wasn't in any mood to be writing, as I'm sure you could understand. I hope that any readers that may have been frustrated can forgive me. It's gonna be tough getting back into the <em>_rhythm of things, but I hope to get back on track._


	27. What I Want the Most

John woke up with a startle when he heard his door whoosh open. There was no light coming in from the hallway like usual; it was the dead of night. His keen eyes were able to pick Alexander out of the darkness though.

"It's time son. Come on." Alexander said.

John felt butterflies in his stomach. He did not need to ask, not really. He knew that this was a job, but not the usual. He slipped on some functional clothing and followed Alexander out to the air pad. Tom was waiting in a hovercraft for them.

"Well you look sleepy!" Tom teased at John.

"I am. Where are we going?" John asked.

Tom gave Alexander a look, who gave a slight shrug and nod.

"It's time for you to meet the team. There's a job, and I want you in on it lad."

"What kind of job?"

"The kind that'll pay you two thousand damn credits if you don't muck it up."

John had to swallow to keep his jaw from hitting the ground.

"Or die, ya'know." Tom added.

Alexander scoffed at him and got in, John followed. Within minutes they had flown to one of the many warehouses on the docks. Boat travel was being phased out on earth so the docks were secluded most of the time. The three of them got out and entered the closest warehouse. Armed guards immediately jumped them.

"Raise your hands, turn around, and back up against the wall." One of them ordered.

Alexander and Tom did so even before he said it, John was not so quick. He did not say anything, merely gave a look of confusion but this was enough to put the guard on edge.

"Fucking do it right now!" He said before pointing his gun at John's head.

"Do it boy!" Alexander demanded.

John complied quickly and the three of them were frisked. All the while John heard two men speaking.

"You've got nothing to worry about man, their cool."

"You can't be too careful."

"If you're looking for a gun, I've got one on me right here, heh."

"Oh I know, but I also know you wouldn't threaten your own payday to save your mothers life Rico."

"Eh, don't you talk about my mama."

"Christ Rico, did you find these guys at a gay club or something? This one is taking his sweet time." Alexander said.

"Shut your mouth!" The offended guard demanded.

"Eh, sorry boss. They're just jumpy as you can understand." Rico replied.

The guards finally were satisfied that they had no weapons and allowed the trio to approach. John noticed that the man, Rico, stared at him in confusion.

"Who the hell is this? You didn't tell me you had a son." Rico said.

"Would you like me to tell you every time I wipe my ass too?" Alexander replied.

"Well not if you're gonna be rude about it." Rico laughed.

"Gentlemen, should I leave you to kiss and get reacquainted or can we get to work?" The man standing with Rico asked.

"Hey, go for it man." Rico said.

"Thank you. So, the reason I've sought you out is because I have a...business rival staying in the city. He's carrying some very valuable data that I want. I want this to go as smoothly as possible, hence why I've hired the full team. Um, is this it?"

"Is it?" John whispered to Alexander.

"No...The others will get filled in rest assured. Rico here is the tech and communications guy, and pilot if need be. And Tom is our all around ass kicker."

"Damn right." Tom added.

"Hm. And you?"

"The brains."

"I see. And him? Is he the caddy?" The man belittled.

"I like guns." John said in as intimidating a voice as he could.

It was the first thing he thought of, and he hoped it did not make him look stupid. The man only shrugged though.

"Well let's hope it doesn't come to that. So in a nutshell it is very simple; find my 'friend', get the data, get out and leave no trace that can lead back to you or especially me. He's staying at the Sierra Hotel. It looks nice but really it's little more than a ritzy brothel that the wealthier under city folk go to pretend they have class. Be warned though he is sure to have his own security and also that he has several, rivals. There may be more in the shadows than you realize."

"We live in the shadows. We'll get it done, lets go Rico." Alexander said.

The quartet left to gather around their hovercraft.

"So, you like guns huh?" Alexander asked.

"It just came to me!"

"Al, you don't really expect this kid to ride along do you?" Rico asked.

"Well he's got you already." John griped.

"Being twenty-three isn't the same as being fifteen,"

"Eighteen." John corrected.

"Whatever. I don't wanna babysit on the job."

"And you won't. The boy is good, smart, and if he needs to, he's killed before." Alexander defended.

Rico look surprised.

"I'll vouch for him." Tom added.

"Fine, as long as he knows what's at stake."

"Money, power, reputation, I think I get it Rico." John defended snidely.

Rico rolled his eyes, "Fine, well I hope you had a good breakfast, because the job starts now."

"What's the plan?" John asked Alexander.

"The plan is that you go with Tom and Rico, shut up and listen, and do exactly what they say. Got it lad?"

"You're not coming?"

"No. I'm not the best field operative anymore. I coordinate from the outside and handle the...finer details."

"Namely getting us paid." Rico elaborated.

"Namely making sure you boys aren't set up you greedy bastard! I want this to go smoothly, I don't care how much firepower is ready to go, and I'd rather not use any of it."

"Exactly how much firepower is prepped?" John asked nervously.

"If Sean and Damien get involved, a whole lot kid. A whole lot." Rico boasted.

"Who are they?"

"Hopefully you won't need to meet them on this job son. Tom should be more than enough muscle, provided Rico here and Tyrone don't muck things up." Alexander glared at Rico.

"So I'm meeting pretty much the whole team huh." John asked.

"Yep. Its good to have, friends, son. Tom will watch out for you won't he."

"Damn right I will."

"Alright. Well John, you go with these boys. Do what you do best."

"What is it I do best?"

"You'll find out after today."

* * *

><p>Jerrod sat quietly in the seat next to Anastasia as she flew him to school. He still thought about last night, the things he had said and had been said to him. He felt bad about fighting with John, but he just could not let go of the anger in him. He picked his nails with his stolen military knife.<p>

"Got any idea where Johnny is?" Anastasia asked.

"No, you?"

"No..."

Silence lingered for a moment, but Jerrod picked up on the concern in Anastasia's face. He had mixed feelings about that. He half shared them, and half felt, suspicion.

"I hope he isn't missing a test." Jerrod added.

"Yeah." Anastasia answered simply as they landed.

The cockpit lifted open and Jerrod hopped out. He adjusted his bag, glancing back at Anastasia. She looked him over softly, with a small smile.

"Well, thanks for the ride. Let me know if you hear from Johnny..."

"Jerry, can I have the knife?" Anastasia asked.

Jerrod stopped in his track and felt the knife in his pocket.

"It's mine." Jerrod said.

Anastasia looked at him sadly, and this disarmed him even more. He liked having the knife. It was his, nobody else's; he did not want anyone to take anything from him. He liked the feeling of protection and strength it gave him, he imagined what he could do with it...

"Please Jerry." Anastasia pleaded.

"Dammit..." Jerrod cursed.

He tossed the knife back into the seat.

"Thanks." Anastasia told him sincerely.

"Yeah." He said before stomping off.

He did not like giving it up, but he only did it because she had asked him to. He wondered why she wanted it though, what did she think he was going to do? Stab somebody?

"What's up asshole!"

Jerrod cringed, and the thought of stabbing someone suddenly seemed very appealing when he heard Victor's voice. The bully was leaning against some lockers as he passed by, eyeing him with contempt.

"Where's your boyfriend huh?" Victor teased further.

"Probably your whore mother's house." Jerrod replied venomously.

Several passing students snickered at the comment and Victor's face suddenly turning very, very red.

* * *

><p>"This tie is too tight!" John protested.<p>

"Deal with it." Tom replied.

They had arrived around the back of the Sierra Hotel. John and Tom were quickly dressed in servers clothing. Rico remained in the clothing he had worn before.

"Where's your outfit huh?" John asked.

"Weren't you briefed kid? I'm logistics, repairs, tech geek, and get away driver if need be. You get to mingle with marks."

Rico got back into the hovercraft and started it up.

"I'll be in touch. Have fun." He said before zooming off.

"You didn't tell me that there were other jobs."

"What, you don't like playing dress up?" Tom teased.

"I just think.."

"Everyone has a role to play John. Rico is logistics and such, I'm a footman and you, and well you are to until we figure out what you're good at."

"I can.."

"And no, you're not getting a gun. Not yet at least. Now come on."

The two of them went through the back entrance, through the laundry and kitchens passing servers and cooks of all colors and stripes before coming into the main hall. It looked lavish enough; high ceiling, white paint, fine glassware and cutlery at all the tables, and pretentious dicks eating and drinking from them. They may have dressed finely and acted sophisticated, but John could see the signs of drug and alcohol abuse among other things. These people were little more than under city crooks with money.

"So what's the plan?" John asked.

"Well you saw the picture of the mark. Find him and get the data or find out where he's keeping it."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Get creative."

John turned to Tom to scold him but the man had already wandered off into the crowd. John tried to follow him at first but decided that it would be best if they split up. He scanned the faces of the people looking at him, obviously expecting him to wait on their every need. John could only smile and nod and hope for the best, though this seemed to only irritate the people that expected him to be bringing them food or drinks.

_This really sucks._

"Hey, hey waiter over here!"

John grumbled as he turned, but then his jaw almost fell open. It was the man he was looking for; fat, ugly, mean looking, dressed sharply, and with an entourage around consisting of men and women that merely pretended to be impressed by him.

"Yes sir, how can I help you?" John said in his most waiter like voice.

"I want my damn drinks, I ordered them what, ten minutes ago? What the hell is going on huh?" The man asked harshly.

"The, order did not come through sir." John lied, flustered.

"Did not come through? What the fuck is this some kind of joke, you waited this long to get back to me? Do you know who I am? I could have your job, and your head on a ..."

"Oh Jimmy you didn't pick up the drinks like I asked you to?" A buck toothed waiter suddenly chimed in, carrying a tray full of drinks.

"Jimmy?" John asked.

"Yes **Jimmy**, I asked you to pick up the drinks for this gentleman. I sincerely apologize sir; he's new and still learning the ropes. He doesn't even know how to use the order system yet!"

"Well it's about damn time someone that knows what they are doing came by. Hurry up!"

"Right away sir! Jimmy, help me will you."

John went over to where the new waiter had set the drinks down.

"Just play along alright, come with me after." He whispered to John.

The two of them went around distributing the drinks. The mark was saved for last.

"Honestly Jimmy I don't know why you wasted this good man's time like that." The other waiter instigated.

"But I.."

"Damn right he did. I paid a lot of money to be here!"

"I'm sure you did sir, you're a very valued guest and we respect your business. Some of us more than others."

"Where did you find this kid? You pull him right from his momma's tit and slap a suit on him..."

John endured the mark's insults. He commented on his age, his possible education level, and several times about what his mother did for a living. His entourage watched with amusement. All the while the other waiter, with a quick movement of his hand, pulled a keycard out of the mark's jacket that was hung over the back of his chair. He slipped it into his own quickly and took off, leaving John to suffer the insults further.

"...And if you ever pull something like this again, I'll have you fired kid. Now scram!" The mark warned.

John did as he was told, suddenly taking this job very personally. He found the other waiter in the kitchen.

"Wow, you sure can take getting chewed out huh." The waiter laughed.

"Who are you?" John asked seriously.

The waiter led him out of the kitchen and into the foyer. It was completely empty as everyone was attending in the main hall.

"Name's Tyrone. You're John I take it?"

"How'd you know?"

"Well I already know Tom, Damien, Sean, Alexander and Rico so that means you must be John. The powers of deduction eh."

"I see you got that keycard. You know where to put it?"

"I do. Follow me."

The two of them took the elevator up to the suites level and made their way down the hall.

"So John, what exactly is your specialty?"

"I don't have one." John answered.

"Everyone has a specialty. That's what makes this team so damn good."

"Alright, what's yours?"

"Didn't you see that back there? I'm the smoothest cat in town, I'm a people person John!"

"With sticky fingers." John added.

"You develop that when you grow up where I did."

"I know. I was raised in Chances."

"That shitty broke down orphanage run by a witch? Damn I feel for you man. I've had some dealings with boys and girls from that place, guess you got out well and good."

"Yeah...So what can you tell me about the rest of the team?"

"Not much, I'm the newest guy. Well after you now. I get along with Rico and Tom well enough. Smart, opportunistic bastard and a loyal dog respectively. I don't see Alexander much, but I gotta respect the old man for giving me a chance."

"I know what you mean. What about the other two, Sean and Damien?"

"Oh, them. I gotta tell you man, those two scare me but I don't know which one to be scared of more. They've been around even longer than Tom from what I know, back in the glory days of war and espionage and stuff."

"Damn, so what are their specialties?" John asked with intrigue.

"Breaking stuff for sure, at least that's Sean's department. Damien is the team lead in the field, since Alexander hangs back. Don't think of him as a pencil pusher though, I really think that dude could crack our heads like eggs if he wanted."

"Damn, I wanna meet them!" John said.

"Trust me, no you don't. If you do, it means things have gone to absolute shit. Ah, heres the room!"

Tyrone swiped the card through the locked door and it slid open. The suite was very fancy, with a window overlooking the streets ten stories below.

"Alright, now if I was a data pad where would I be?" Tyrone spoke out loud.

As he walked by the table he noticed a stack of credits on the table. He quickly swiped them.

"Really?" John asked.

"What, you telling me you don't wanna ruin this guy's life a little more than we're already going to? Especially after that mouthful you got?" Tyrone smirked.

John admitted that he would not mind getting some payback, but he felt that petty thievery was beneath him at this point. Now he just focused on finding the data pad.

"Any idea where it would be?" John asked.

"Its not in the kitchen."

"What the hell are you doing in there?"

"I was thirsty."

John rolled his eyes and kept looking. He checked the living room, the bathroom, the drawers, nothing. He now searched the bedroom but could not find it.

"I would just hide that thing under my bed." John said to himself.

He bit his lip and lifted the mattress. A data pad was tucked underneath it.

"Son of a bitch." John shook his head.

John took the data pad out to show Tyrone back ducked around the corner when he saw Tyrone being held at gunpoint. The gunman was covered in light armor and wore a balaclava.

"Hey, hey man I'm just room service! That's it!"

"Delivering food to an empty room?" The gunman asked with disbelief.

"Yeah well you know...John for fuck sakes help me!" Tyrone yelled.

John dove behind the couch as the gunman looked in his direction. He did not see him.

_Idiot!_

"You stay put or I'll blow your head off, understand!" The gunman warned Tyrone.

The gunman moved to investigate the bedroom. On instinct, John threw himself at him once he passed by. The gunman dropped his gun and tried to wrestle with John. John kept around his back wrapped his arms around his waist. With all his might John lifted him off the ground and spun around to throw him against the window separating the balcony from the rest of the room. John picked up the gunman's submachine gun and aimed it at him.

"Wait, wait don't!"

John ignored his pleas and unloaded three bursts into him. The weapon was silenced but the shots perforated the gunman and smashed him through the window until he died propped up against the balcony railing.

"Holy shit man, holy shit you killed him!" Tyrone gasped.

"Yeah I know!" John replied.

John stepped over the shattered glass and inspected the dead man's body. He removed a glove and found the Anarchists tattoo on his had.

"Aw crap. They're here.

"Oh no, no, no we need to tell Tom!" Tyrone said in a panic.

He activated his Omni tool to open a com between him and Tom.

"What is it Tyrone? I'm kind of in the middle of something right now."

"We've got problems man. John killed a guy, the glass is broken and, and,"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tom replied over the com.

John refused to listen to Tyrone panicking and spoke into the comm.

"Tom, it's John. I've got the data pad but Ricardo's men are here. One's dead here in the suite with us. Can we make our get away now?"

"Well we're gonna have to now. I'll call Rico, you two get to the rendezvous point. Watch your asses."

The comm went silent.

"Tyrone, where's the rendezvous point?"

Tyrone rubbed his head, looking back and forth at the dead gunman.

"Hey!" John shouted at him.

"I know this is bad but we can't break down right now. I've got your back, but you need to get me out. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, yeah I can do that."

* * *

><p>Jerrod thought this school day was never going to end. Three tests and having to listen to the benign things everyone had to say, he hated all of it. He did not hear anything from John yet either, and he started to worry. He decided that he needed to walk and clear his head so he did not bother calling Anastasia for a ride.<p>

The way had people heading home from school but no one that ever paid Jerrod any mind. He doubted that any of them knew who he was. That irritated him; he had been in classes with them all day all semester and they did not care to know him.

"Hey, asshole..."

Jerrod turned and got punched right across the jaw, knocking him to the ground. His ears were ringing and he worked to prop himself up on his hands. He could taste the blood coming from his lip.

"You think you're funny, huh? What did you call my mom? Oh yeah, a whore!" Victor remembered before he kicked Jerrod in the side.

Jerrod coughed and rolled onto his side. He clutched his ribs and glanced up at Victor. The bully's face was still beet red, very angry and hurt. Jerrod tried to ignore his own pain and focused on the pleasure he got from seeing that, the pain and anger he had inspired.

"Yeah, I did say that." Jerrod taunted.

Victor kicked him again.

"I said John is probably knocking her up right now, she doesn't like to take the same guy twice in a row, and I already had her last night."

Victor kicked him again, but Jerrod just laughed, albeit painfully. The students passing by kept a safe distance away but stay to watch. Jerrod thought about his knife, and how much he wanted it right now, but he did not have it...

"I'm gonna kill you prick!" Victor declared before attempting to stomp on him.

...Jerrod instead caught Victor's foot and yanked him to the ground. Jerrod got on top of him and pounded senselessly into Victor's back, neck, and the back of his head. Victor tried to get up but Jerrod forced him down and continued his assault. After a few more hits Victor had no choice but to cover his head with his hands. Jerrod slipped his arm around Victor's neck and locked him in a chokehold. He used one knee to pin Victor's back to the ground while getting more leverage with his other leg.

Victor clawed at his hand, drawing blood but could not shake the hold, it was just too deep. It was so tight he lost the ability to cough or breath. Jerrod bit his bleeding lip as he pushed his knee harder into Victor's back and pulled his head back more, strangling him even more and stretching his neck dangerously. Victor's hands fell to the ground and his eyes rolled back into his head, passed out from the choke. Jerrod did not even realize, he merely kept on going. Squeezing and pulling as hard as he could, after a few more seconds he heard quiet snapping, cracking, breaking sounds. His eyes widened when he released Victor and he flopped to the ground, not passed out, but dead, strangled as if a snake was wrapped around his neck.

Jerrod stood and was afraid for a second. He had just killed someone. John told him how terrible it was, but this feeling was not terrible. He looked around at the gawking students that had watched the whole thing and smiled inwardly. They knew who he was now.

* * *

><p>Tyrone had led John into the basement of the Sierra Hotel. Compared to the rest of the building, the basement was dirty and decrepit. There was a large and old blast door to their rear, probably the old delivery door from when the building was first built.<p>

"This is our rendezvous point? Don't you think we've caged ourselves?" John asked.

"Yeah well this was the best spot if we encountered any hostilities. And I think what happened up in the suite was pretty hostile stuff. Have you done that before?" Tyrone asked.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb man. Killed. Have you killed before?"

"Three times now." John answered.

John saw Tyrone suck down a lump in his throat."

"That looked you it was three hundred times now. I think Sean and Damien would get along with you."

"Now hold on just.."

"You guys down here?" Tom's voice suddenly interrupted.

"Yeah, over here!"

Tom came out into sight to meet them.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Tom pointed to John's submachine gun.

"Off Ricardo's man. He wasn't dressed up like us; he was in full gear like a soldier! They came to play hard ball."

"Well we can play just as hard. I've called Rico; he's on his way to pick us up. We can just bunker up here until.."

"Tom…" A bland voice said over Tom's omni tool.

"Damien, what is it?"

"There is a ship dropping a group of unsavory looking men on the roof of the hotel. I guess you guys really blew your cover. Is the data pad secure?"

"The data pad is only as secure as we are Damien!" Tom answered.

"Right. See you soon. Watch your back."

"All he has to say is see you soon?" John asked, dumbfounded.

"That's Damien for you, cool as a spiky cucumber. But he is team lead so we got to do what he says."

"Even if it gets us killed?" Tyrone asked.

"It won't." Tom drew a pistol.

"John, I take it you got an idea of how to use that thing?" Tom asked.

John shouldered the weapon as comfortably as he could.

"I think I got it." John said, with diminished enthusiasm.

"Alright, you and I will keep the fighting focused in one place. Tyrone, you keep the data pad safe."

"With what? I don't have a gun!"

"Just keep your mouth shut and your head down. John, take a position and hope for the best."

Tom flattened himself out against a pillar. John mirrored him on the opposite side. He adjusted his back and made sure that he could quickly and easily roll in and out while aiming.

"You're a natural John, that's why Alexander sent you on this op. He's got big plans for you."

"As long as I don't die here." John said pessimistically.

"My advice? Think about the one thing you want most. A person, an item, an idea, just something that you want more than anything. Keep that in mind, and you'll walk out of here no problem."

John nodded and breathed deeply, calming his adrenaline into focus. A few minutes passed by before they heard the sounds of boots coming down stairs.

"Here we go. Wait till you get a few targets, then let em have it!" Tom instructed.

"Man, this is so fucked!" Tyrone quivered.

John saw the beams from flashlights dancing around the dark basement. He hid behind the pillar and used the beams to get an idea of where the men were. If he had to guess, there were eight of them. His heart pounded in his ears and his grip on the gun tightened. He decided that, even though he did not know what he wanted most in life, he was not going to die here and be denied the answer forever. With wide-open eyes and sharp breath, John leaned out and fired.

"Take cover!" One of the anarchists ordered as one of their comrades fell dead to the ground. Two of them laid suppressing fire while the rest moved to cover.

Thinking John was the only attacker, Tom was able to peek out and kill another by surprise.

"There are two! You three keep them there, everyone else move up and flank them!"

Three men wielding two submachine guns and a shotgun fired at their position. The hail of bullets made it impossible for either of them to peer out that way. John tilted the other way and shot one of the flankers but had to go into cover again. Neither direction was safe now.

"Where the hell are you guys Damien?" Tom shouted into his com.

"Right here."

The old blast door suddenly was blown off the hinges, sending dust and smoke everywhere John had clear enough vision to see what looked to be a man, a massive man carrying an equally massive weapon. Covered head to toe in armor, he looked like a tank with legs.

"Knock knock, ha ha ha ha!" Sean taunted.

Sean stomped into the room with his machine gun blazing. One anarchist was torn to pieces by it while the others practically tripped over each other trying to get into cover.

"Run you ants, run!" Sean warned.

As the dust settled John saw a small transport hovering just a couple off feet off the ground. A man completely covered in silver armor hopped off. He completely ignored Tom and John and went straight for Tyrone.

"Holy shit, thank god you guys are here!" Tyrone stammered.

Damien merely yanked the data pad from his hands and gave it a cursory look over. The sounds of bullets did not seem to concern him.

"Looks good. Everyone get on, we're leaving."

Tyrone nearly tripped as he ran to the transport. Damien casually followed. Sean stomped his way back, having killed or driven away all the attackers.

"I was just starting to have fun." Sean said sarcastically.

John was still slack jawed by what just happened. Clearly people were not kidding when they said that meeting Sean and Damien would be quite an experience.

"These guys don't mess around." John said, astonished.

"No they don't, and trust me when I say that Damien will leave you here, so you better hurry up and get on." Tom warned.

John jogged over to the transport and climbed on. The towering giant man looked down on him, figuratively and literally and even though Damien wore a helmet, John could feel that the man gave him the smallest of glances.

"You guys look like you had some fun." Rico said from the cockpit.

Tom was the only one not on the ship yet.

"Oh yeah, tons of.." He was cut off by a gunshot.

Tom felt his heart explode and John's eyes widened as he saw a wounded anarchist, the one he had shot but apparently not killed, taking aim once again.

"No!" John yelled.

He moved to get off but Damien grabbed him by the shoulder and roughly yanked him back, somehow stealing his gun in the process. Damien expertly took aim and shot the anarchist dead. Tom fell to his knees with blood pouring from his chest and his mouth. He looked up in time to see Damien shoot him once in the head, killing him instantly.

"Tom!" John cried.

"Let's go." Damien ordered.

Rico initiated lift off and they were zooming through the air shortly.

"Well that did not go as ideally as I had hoped." Damien said nonchalantly.

"You son of a bitch!" John growled.

He charged Damien, but the man merely gun butted him with great speed.

"What's your problem?" Damien asked.

The lack of emotion in his voice enraged John.

"You killed Tom!"

"I did him a kindness. He probably had, thirty agonizing seconds left?" Damien estimated.

John was about to charge again but Sean easily restrained him with one arm.

"Let me go!"

"Trust me kid, you don't want me to do that." Sean warned.

"I would trust him." Damien warned as well.

John protested only a little more until the grief took its toll on him. He slumped into a seat and looked around at the people around him. He had business-oriented pilot, a cowardly spy, a bloodthirsty weapons specialist, an absolutely ruthless commander, and an aloof mentor that somehow had big plans for him in this group. Where did he fit in all of this?

"Alexander is going to want an update, who's gonna do the honors?" Rico asked.

"Don't I always?" Damien said.

Damien leaned over Rico to speak into the comm.

"Hello?" Alexander's voice said.

"Hi."

"Huh, nice to hear from you Damien, I guess."

"Likewise. I guess." Damien retorted.

"Whats the damage?"

"Nine of Ricardo's men dead. One blown up blast door. Tom is dead too."

"And whose fault is that huh?!" John snapped.

"I dunno, yours?" Damien dismissed.

"You shot him in the head!"

"As a kindness, like I said."

"You.." John was suddenly muffled by Sean's massive hand.

"Cool it little man." Sean said.

"Dammit all of you calm down in there right now!" Alexander ordered.

"Hey Al, you want to tell me what the big idea is sending this newbie kid with us?" Damien asked.

"That newbie kid as you call him, I'm grooming him to be team lead, and you're going to help. All of you." Alexander replied.

Awkward silence fell over all of them. Sean crossed his arms and leaned against the wall whilst Rico shook his head and Tyrone looked around with confusion.

"Well shit." Damien said, with a more inconvenienced tone than anything.

"Let me talk to him." Alexander said.

Damien stepped aside and John took his place.

"I'm here."

"How are you feeling son?"

"Not…not too good."

"I'm sorry about Tom, but that's the reality of things. You might not get used to it, but you will need to accept it. You're going to have to."

"Why do you want me to lead this team?"

"You've got the potential to take them to a new level. Call it a hunch."

"A fucking hunch." John chuckled.

"I know how it sounds but I don't know how else to put it. We'll talk once you get back. We need to discuss something…Jerrod got into some trouble."

"Just what I need." John scolded.

He sat back down in his seat and thought long and hard in the silence, mostly about what Tom said. What did he want most? If he was going to be a leader, he did not want to lose anybody, ever again.

That did not change for years to come.


End file.
